Never Let You Go
by x-MJ-x
Summary: "There was limited light but that seemed fitting on a day like today, when the prospect of any brightness would have felt inherently wrong." This is it, the boxes are packed, it's settled: he's going. But then Harry finds out Nikki needs him, just one last time. Delaying his flight, he learns something about the pain of letting go. Precisely that he can't. Let her go that is.
1. It Will Rain

**Hello lovely people,**

**It's just me again! I wanted to thank you all for your interest and reviews to my 'Last Chance' trilogy, I've never written a set of stories before so I'm quite pleased that they worked. I'm not going to say much about this one other than that with the impending series premiere sans Harry, I could not let them go... hence the title. I had planned it as a one shot but since I am currently not sleeping too well, this one kept me company last night and has grown into a multi-chaptered story of as yet indeterminate length. It's my first one since 'At Last' and any readers of that will know that in terms of updates, patience is key with me since I am a perfectionist who is necessarily a slow-poke... oh and a third year English degree student!**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness; if I did I'm sure this travesty would not have occurred. All recognisable plots and dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. P.S: The title of this chapter comes from the song of the same name by Bruno Mars.**

**Enjoy and do let me know what you think...**

* * *

The bed was unmade. It could have been, but what was the point? The room was still and silent, scattered here and there with boxes – the miscellany of how many years? On the floor, by the door to the en-suite, laid a discarded pair of grey boxers; they seemed somehow sad, lonely perhaps, in a room filled with nothing.

It was a little before eight 'o' clock on Thursday night. In the midst of winter there was limited light, but then that seemed fitting on a day like today, when any prospect of brightness would have felt inherently wrong.

The rain pelted the four windows which fronted the living room relentlessly, the constant pitter patter so familiar now that it was just there, barely audible from the inside.

On the bare, polished surface of the breakfast island in the now stripped kitchen laid a mobile phone.

The rain continued to pour like a million long lost angels sobbing, building from an at first irritating but now tolerable smattering, to an awful crescendo which had the potential to be quite disturbing.

In the bathroom, the steady, hot flow of water from the shower added one extra voice to the powerful choir Mother Nature had struck up. The high pressured water pummelled his exposed skin and, absorbed in his own world, he hardly noticed the strange phenomena he had unwittingly made himself a participant of. He stood beneath the water, quite unaware of anything beyond it.

In the kitchen, a faint buzzing began to sound: building, building until it tipped the incredible symphony of the night to the peak of its splendour.

The rain continued to barrage the windows and all that lay beyond them, the water continued to run and, against a cold mock-marble surface, the phone remained, buzzing repeatedly, but unanswered...

* * *

**Ok so I know it's ridiculously short, especially for me, but I'm hoping your attention is arrested. It won't keep you waiting long for the next part, I promise. With any luck and with the best intentions in the world I aim for the chapters in this to appear in fairly quick succession.**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Xx**


	2. If I Ever Lost You, Nikki

**Thanks so much to all of you who've reviewed thus far, it means the world to me and it's great to see so many familiar names popping up – I love you all and hope you enjoy this next chapter, which is decidedly longer than the first and more like my usual essay-ish length!**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness, it characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

**Again inspiration for the chapter title here came from Bruno Mars' 'It Will Rain' which is odd because aside from the fact that it was pouring yesterday when I wrote this, I haven't listened to the song in months!**

* * *

He barely even remembered getting to his car; only that he had sprinted there, speeding out of the garage in the basement of his building. He cursed loudly as he saw it up ahead: the red light. It might have been distorted in the downpour, but it was definitely there a bright deterrent. Stop, it told him. He cursed again, louder – the expletive worse. He pumped the brakes, almost too late and the wheels skidded against the tarmac river beneath him, lurching him forward in protest as the rear of the car shuddered and caught up to him, shunting him into the steering column. It seemed like that red light remained so for an eternity, but at last, the slightest flickering of amber. He was off. He did not have time to consider his reckless driving, his aim so clear and yet his very neglect was ironic. Cruelly so.

He rounded a corner, now not more than five minutes out, but he took it too fast and felt himself lose control of the steering wheel as it spun a three-sixty and the car aquaplaned through a deep accruement of water on the bend. Angry now, even expletives would not help and he was forced in spite of his agenda to test the brakes, signalling and pulling to a stop on the hard shoulder as he gave himself a minute to calm down. He was no good dead. Adrenaline running through his veins, he ran a hand roughly through his hair, swallowing the lump in his throat, but finding that it would not leave him. _Pull it together, _he told himself, his anger rising again. He gripped the steering wheel and threw his weight against it, jolting himself out of this reckless haze. He took a deep breath and then indicated right, pulling out when it was clear. As he travelled the remaining distance, barely noticing the distorted rear lamps of the car in front of him, he tried not to think about it, but it laid heavily on his conscience and he found it inescapable.

* * *

_Five missed calls. _

He hadn't been in the shower that long, had he? Clearly he must have been.

_Number unrecognised. _

Just that simple phrase hadn't boded well and it was with dread that he'd called his voicemail service...

He was too distracted, he'd almost missed the turn off, but at the last minute he had the sense to indicate left and pulled from the road into the complicated system he hated.

"_Dr Cunningham, this is Nurse Andrews from Charing Cross hospital. I've tried repeatedly to contact you as the listed next of kin for a Dr Nicola Alexander." _

Harry blinked his eyes closed against the wave of dread for a minute, regretting it the second he heard a car-horn sound and raised his hand in a non-committal apology.

"_There's been an accident. Could you come? Parker ward_, _seventh floor, to your right."_

He hadn't even called back. He'd just grabbed his keys and gone.

* * *

"_Please God, no. Not you. Please God no," _he said as he pulled into a space in the visitor's car park and took off towards the hospital, hardly aware of the people he passed on the footpaths or of the three aged patients who have braved the torrent, cigarettes in hand, for one final pleasure in their soon to be extinguished lives.

He stopped briefly at the reception desk in the main wing of the hospital, demanding or rather barking a request for help at the staff who told him as Nurse Andrews had, Parker ward could be found on the seventh floor, to sir's right. He ran quickly down the wax-polished linoleum corridor, following the sign for the lifts and almost audibly cried out when he had to surrender a vacant lift to a young woman in a wheelchair whose entire family it seemed, were with her. That couldn't be good news and when she smiled at his courtesy he felt wretched, but he reminded himself, he wasn't exactly here by choice either. When the next lift failed to come immediately, Harry tore off in the direction of the stairwells, taking the steps two at a time as he climbed case after case of stairs to the seventh floor. He found the ward with relative ease and pushed the buzzer, waiting impatiently as a smiling nurse approached and feeling the need to hurry her along, he pushed the button over and over until she no longer smiled.

"Sir, we attend to visitor's as soon as we are able," she said, opening the door and signalling for Harry to use the hand gel, which given his profession he had done automatically.

"Sorry. I... Dr Alexander... I... Dr Cunningham... there was phone call. Nikki..."

"Ah yes, I'm Nurse Andrews, I left the messages for you."

Her calmness infuriated him. Immensely. "Well? How is she? What happened? Can I see her?"

"The police say the car is a write off, in this weather it's hardly..."

"I don't care about the car! How is she? How is Nikki?"

Nurse Andrews ushered him into the ward and they began to walk up the corridor, irritatingly slowly. "Please just tell me, how serious is it? On the phone you only said an accident, nothing about her condition. I'm a doctor too, I realise what such an omission means," Harry said, as they passed a bay in which despite his attempts to locate her, Nikki could not be found.

"Sir, I'm sorry if my tone in my phone call implied something serious but at the time I contacted you, the only information I had was that Dr Alexander had been in an accident, the consultant was assessing her as I placed it. It's my job to inform next of kin and in this case that was you, _now_ we know more. Given the driving conditions out there, Dr Alexander has been incredibly lucky and has escaped relatively unscathed. She has a few minor facial abrasions and she seems to have been thrown about a bit – she'll be a bit sore for a while, bruised maybe, but she's going to be fine."

"Oh thank God!" Harry said, fighting back the urge to kiss the nurse for the delivery of the news.

"When I left her, a minor sedative had been administered to Dr Alexander owing to the quite severe distress she was in when she arrived. She was muttering a name, 'Gavin Edwards'. It says in her notes that you work with Dr Alexander, does that mean anything to you as her colleague?"

Harry's stomach turned at this connection and he shook his head. "No it doesn't. I don't work with Nikki anymore, she's just..." what? What was she now? "A friend. Are you sure she's alright?"

"Quite sure. Dr Alexander was placed under sedation only to help her get some rest. As well as her obvious injuries, the consultant also noticed a number of signs of severe exhaustion. Your friend was most concerned not to go to sleep alone so we helped her along a little that's all. The sedative will wear off within half an hour given the time at which it was administered and on his next round Mr Morley is anticipating, if she is up to it, that Dr Alexander will be released on the proviso that she is not alone for the immediate future, rest is for her, an essential part of recovery."

Harry was silent for a moment as he thought about the plane he was supposed to have been boarding in a few hours time, but honestly that _was_ the first time he'd thought about boarding it since he'd received the news and he knew now that he couldn't simply leave her, she'd been hurt and if what the nurse told him was true, she was exhausted and would need taking care of. He didn't want anyone else to do that job. "I'll do it, of course I will." he said, more to himself than to her. "Where can I find her?"

Nurse Andrews nodded "Bay 'D', last bed on the left."

"Thanks, I just have to make some phone calls, then I'll go right there," Harry said appreciating her direction towards the relative's room, where he called the airline and the New York office. _Sometimes there were more important things than work_, he thought.

* * *

Several minutes later, he made his way directly to her bedside, where he would remain until she woke up. He wondered briefly as he passed several sleeping women, about what Nurse Andrews had said. Nikki hadn't wanted to fall asleep alone. He knew that she appreciated company but he'd never heard her mention trouble sleeping and this lead him to believe that there was more to her ending up here than a straightforward car accident in the rain. Nikki was frightened of something, or more forebodingly of _someone_.

There she was, just as the nurse said she would be and what a pitiful sight she was. She was rolled away from him as he slid into the high-backed leather seat and her long hair was splayed across the pillow but he could just see her face. Even in rest, she _did _look exhausted and what was more, she looked frightened and he longed for her to wake up – if only so he could comfort her. "What have you been up to eh?" He murmured as he settled down to wait.

He'd been at her bedside for almost an hour and was just beginning to worry that perhaps there was something keeping her from waking – something like an underlying head injury perhaps when Nurse Andrews appeared to take observations of her patient. "Nurse, is she alright? It's been longer than you suggested it would and she's shown no sign of stirring."

The nurse leaned over her patient, taking her pulse and checking her vitals, before she checked the drip bag at her side. "The last of the sedative was released at the appropriate time; it seems to me that Dr Alexander is just sleeping heavily. She'll wake when she's good and ready. The bed's hers for as long as she needs it."

Harry nodded and watched the nurse go, unconcerned by his worry. This reassured him a little and he turned his attention back to Nikki and waited for her wake up.

"Nikki?" he said after a while, at a loss for what else to do. "I hope you can hear me. I just want to let you know – it's Ok to wake up now. You're safe, I'm here. You're safe," he said, hoping that at least he might bring her comfort.

She was unresponsive for what seemed like hours and as Harry saw a man who could only have been the consultant enter the ward through the doors just beyond the bay, he was tempted to jump out of his seat and rush at him, begging him to help his poor friend when he heard her begin to stir.

* * *

Everything seemed a little foggy and she was acutely aware that she must have been sleeping, but she did not want to open her eyes – she was unsure what she would see. Things had gone a little out of her mind for a while, it was all blackness but now as she began to wake, she recalled clearly her last memory and the face of the man they'd been trying to catch.

"It's Gavin Edwards," she said more to herself than to anyone else, unaware as she was of her company.

"What is Nikki? What do you mean?" A familiar voice asked and she felt a strangled emotion catch in her throat as she realised to whom it belonged. She refused to open her eyes for the moment but instead listened to the sounds around her. Close, somewhere to the left of her ear, there was the steady beeping of a machine and further off, she could hear the sound of buzzers being rung and the bustle of people. She knew where she was. Everything rushed back with astounding clarity.

The black Nissan Duke she'd seen in her rear view mirror when she'd pulled away from the Lyell Centre, the incessant beaming of its lights as she'd driven, becoming blinded but not wanting to stop, the realisation that she was being followed – that someone pursued her and that she was completely alone. She remembered the teeming rain and the many times as she had turned off here and there along the way trying to lose him that she'd lost control of the steering wheel. She recalled thinking that on no account could she go home but similarly that she had nowhere else to go. She remembered driving towards the Heath, a populated area and looking over her shoulder. She hadn't seen it... she hadn't been looking. The tree had seemed to come out of nowhere and by the time she had realised what was about to happen, she was unable to swerve. She remembered her head hitting the steering wheel, she remembered looking up desperately for help – right into _his_ eyes. Gavin Edwards the father of Melissa, the man who had killed her. She had known. He had left her. He had gotten away. She had woken up here. A hospital. But what was _he_ doing here?

"Nikki, it's alright. You're safe. It's me," he said and she felt tears stinging her eyes.

"Harry?" she said, opening them after a moment's hesitation.

"Hey you, you had me worried there for a minute. Again," he added a little sarcastically.

"Harry. You're here," she said and then she was crying, sobbing.

"Of course I'm here, they called me I came, did you think I wouldn't?"

"I... I felt so alone Harry," she said through her tears, hoisting her upper body from the bed violently in spite of the pain it caused her neck and ribs and threw herself right at his chest, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder.

The feeling of his hand tangling in her hair was one she'd never thought she would feel again and it filled her with relief like she had never known. "You're not. You're not alone it's alright you don't have to be afraid," he said into her hair, holding her as if she were a doll. "Nikki what happened?"

She was silent for a moment apart from her sobs and she clung to him so desperately he dared not press her but after a moment, she seemed to find her voice. "I got into a jam Harry, a big one." Then she proceeded to tell him about how she had come to be here, as far as she could remember.

"Nikki, why did you do it? Confront him I mean? Haven't you learned by now that pathologists - however clever_ or_ stubborn they are - should not go head to head with viscous killers? Why were you handling this by yourself anyway, where's Leo or... Jack?"

Nikki turned away from him then, not wanting to broach this subject. "Leo's in Brussels on a consult with their police department about that case we had a couple of years back with that sex-slave ring and... I didn't want to call Jack; I don't know him that well, he wouldn't have understood the way..." she couldn't finish, it was too hard.

"So instead you marched right in there without thinking, Nikki how many times have I told you?"

"Look," she said, her tone flaring a little. "I didn't think Ok? I never had to before. I always had..." she broke off and turned away from him, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Nikki, this is me. You can talk to me," he said.

"That's just it Harry. It's you. I always had you – to realise what a stupid thing I'd done and come to my rescue," she said with a sigh "you weren't there this time. I thought I was going to die this time and alone too."

"You'll always have me Nikki."

"For how many more days?"

That cut him like a knife. Both of them were silent, having reached a stale mate in the conversation. It was refreshing to him actually, to hear her opinion on the subject. Getting her to even acknowledge before it had been like drawing blood from a stone.

"Wait a minute. What date is it?" Nikki said.

"Thursday," he said averting his gaze now that she was looking at him again.

"I said _date_ not day," she said, trying to gain eye contact.

"It's the tenth."

"Of January?" He nodded; he knew where this was going.

"Oh God," she said, pushing her hair away from her face and looking at him with worry. "It's today isn't it?" Another nod. "What're you doing _here_ then? Shouldn't you be on a seven-four-seven by now?" He hung his head, hearing the hurt through her feigned nonchalance.

"Nikki, I told you. You'll always have me," he said, taking her hand and holding it tightly.

"What about New York?"

"It can wait. I called the office, delayed my departure until Monday. It's not long, but it's... something at least ."

"Why would you do that Harry?"

He paused, not knowing quite what to say. "I don't know, couldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're laid up in here now could it?" he said seriously, before he spotted the approach of the consultant. "Here comes the doctor. Now for once in your life would you just stop asking questions, smile and try to look a little less like you're going to throw up at any given moment? This man is going to release you early for good behaviour," he said, not even finding his joke funny.

"What are you talking about? He said he wasn't happy for me to leave without someone to stay with me whilst I recovered. Which by the way, I told him was ridiculous, I'm not even that badly injured and I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. As for this exhaustion nonsense, I told him – I just didn't get to bed on time last night that's all," she said as defiant and stubborn as ever.

"Or for the last month it seems," he said touching a hand to her cheek and noticing the tiredness in her eyes and the dark circles under them.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to let someone get away with murder on account of being tired. Besides, where am I going to conjure 'someone to stay with me whilst I recover'?"

"What am I now, invisible?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well Nikki, if you're a very good girl you're going to get the Dr Cunningham treatment and, word has it, he's a very attentive physician."

"Hmm I don't know. I've seen your attention- to dead bodies!"

"Nikki I'm serious."

"That's what scares me," she said, real fear evident in her tone.

"Probably sensible," he played along in jest, although his real sentiments were further from it than she knew. Let me do this for you Nikki. I meant what I said – you'll always have me," he said.

"You'd really do this, for_ me_?"

"I really would," he said. He desperately wanted to tell her he'd do anything for her.

She smiled tentatively and nodded."Just until Monday," she murmured with some regret before she fixed on her best smile and played good-little-patient for Mr Morley.

"Monday," he agreed, unable to meet her eye.

* * *

**Well, there it is. I hope you liked it. Maybe it was a little less macabre than the first chapter made it seem – I was intending to have the guy attack her at the Lyell Centre but then decided against it, but I hope this works and fits in with Nikki's slightly reckless approach to 'viscous killers'. Ok so things you should know... from here on out the chapters are going to be titled after their week day namely Thursday night to Monday, so there will be five more chapters to this ironically and I add unintentionally taking the total count to seven chapters. As I said in the summary it's all about them experiencing the pain of letting go but I advise you to take heed of the genre and the rating!**

**Do let me know what you think, please excuse any minor editorial things – they are my own and I have done my best will them. I'm off to work on the next chapter and prepare to have my heartbroken later tonight by Harry's absence... :( **

**Thanks so much for reading,**

**Xx.**


	3. Thursday

**Ok lovely people, thank you once again for the lovely reviews, here comes chapter three, hope you like it.**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. Do Enjoy!**

* * *

Having made firm promises to the consultant that he did indeed intend to stay with Nikki for the weekend, Harry had been pleased to hear the news that he was able to take her home. He knew ironically given her profession, how much she detested hospitals and he appreciated that after the night she'd had, the comforts of home would be all she wanted. She was quiet as he helped her into the car and even more silent on the drive back to her street but at some point, he couldn't quite recall when, - maybe it was when they'd stopped at the traffic lights – she'd reached for the hand which had been resting on his knee and held it tightly. She was yet to let go and he wasn't complaining. It felt natural, it felt safe and it wasn't as if she hadn't done it before but there was something in that small gesture which hinted at forgiveness and gave him hope that he hadn't completely ruined everything between them. She still didn't say anything, didn't look at him and didn't acknowledge that there was any change at all, but he felt the wings of hope flutter across his heart.

It seemed that the return journey with Nikki safely by his side was much shorter than the journey to the hospital had been and Harry knew that her presence and the knowledge that she was safe probably had everything to do with that. They pulled to a stop in the street adjacent to her building and he killed the engine, sitting still and silent for a moment before he heard her unbuckle her belt and he got out of the car, going to meet her before she'd even thought of opening the door. She looped her arm through the crook of his elbow as he paused a moment at the boot, retrieving a suitcase, which had been loaded there since about four this afternoon and carried it in his free hand as they walked the familiar route through her building and ascended to her floor.

It was as she struggled with the key and he silently took it from her, opening the door that she chose to speak. "You don't have to do this Harry," she said, brushing her fingertips against his wrist to halt him before he followed her in.

"You're not getting out of it that easily. I'm afraid that like it or not, you're stuck with me until Monday Dr Alexander," he said ushering her inside and holding a hand up against her protests.

"What about New York Harry, seriously?"

He sighed knowing that that place would always come between them somehow now. "Nikki, do me one favour? Don't talk about New York anymore, Ok?" he asked, his voice tired.

She nodded and sat down on the sofa, motioning for him to do the same. "What do you think you're doing? You're on strict bed rest Nikki," he said, taking the seat next to her.

"I know, I'll go, just give me five minutes."

"Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat."

"Not really, I've lost my appetite for _some _reason or other," she drew one leg up onto the cushion, hugging her knee a little. "Besides, I don't think you'll find much in the cupboards anyway. I haven't had time to go food shopping since this case began you know..." she broke off, becoming uneasy as she realised that Harry _wouldn't _know anymore. "Listen to me," she said with mock-brightness, "talking like you still work in the office, like you know how hard the case has been. You know, I do that a lot. Forget that you're not there. I'll start asking you something and I'm greeted only by the confused expression of Jack..."

"Nikki," he murmured squeezing her fingertips a little "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for... to just leave like that. It's just once I knew it was happening I realised if I didn't go right away, I probably wouldn't at all. Besides, how could I say goodbye to that place to Leo, the techs, the assistants... _You_."

"So you just didn't," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said again folding her into an embrace and hearing her wince. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling like a thousand apologies couldn't make up for this.

She looked away and in profile, he could see she was blinking rapidly, probably trying to rid herself of tears. "I'm fine Harry, really," she said although her voice was thicker, raspy with opposite emotions to those she expressed. "Let's have a drink shall we?"

"A drink? After all the sedatives and high-strength painkillers. Forgive me, but I thought you," he said reaching forward and tapping the end of her nose, "were a doctor."

She let her head loll back against the cushions as she stared up at him in frustration. "Oh go on, be a good man-servant, there's a bottle of vodka in the cupboard."

"Man servant?" he wrinkled his nose.

"Well you _are _here to do anything I need in order to recover aren't you? I think man servant is fitting," she replied with a wry smile.

"I prefer 'concerned friend' and yes I am here to take care of you, but I don't think allowing you to mix alcohol and medication is quite in my remit somehow," he said getting up and entering the kitchen, leaving her to her thoughts.

"Anyway," he shouted to her from the next room "since when do you drink vodka?"

She fiddled with a loose thread on the edge of the cushion for a moment before answering. "Since I had a hole to fill," she murmured knowing it would have been almost impossible for him to have heard.

"I'm sorry? Didn't hear you, what did you say?"

"Nothing," she said eyeing the mugs in his hand. "What is _that_?"

"Look, the man servant will do you a deal no alcohol _but _hot, sweet tea instead," he said handing her a mug which she scowled at.

"Ooh because sugar is really going to pep me up," she said.

"It's the best you're going to get tonight, besides you don't need to be pepped up – you have to rest."

"Yes sir!" she mock- saluted, but drank the tea anyway.

They were silent as they sipped their tea and she was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. In all the time they drank, he never took his eyes off her. She shifted and even that small motion caused her bruised ribs to protest. She raised her empty mug and shook it a little after a while. "Thanks Harry," she said.

"Any time."

"Until..." she stopped herself "I know," she said instead.

They sat in silence for a while longer until Nikki began to look even more tired than she had all night and every other second seemed to become punctuated with a yawn – but she was stubborn, she wouldn't give in until he did. "You know, I think I'm going to head to bed, long day," he said, hoping that this not-so-subtle hint wouldn't sound too much like he was trying shepherd her.

"Yes," she said accepting his offer to take her mug. "Me too," she agreed.

"Right well, why don't you go ahead, I'll wash these out and lock up."

"Ok. You'll take the spare room won't you?"

"Oh, thanks. Hadn't really thought about it. You don't mind?"

"Why should I? You're the one who's being inconvenienced not me."

"It's not an inconvenience at all, I'm happy to be here."

"I appreciate it," she said moving slowly towards her bedroom. "The bed's made up."

"Great," he said feeling a little awkward.

"You remember where everything is, after last time?"

"I do."

"Well, night then and thanks again," she said as she opened her door.

"No problem, night Nikki. Get some sleep and, you know, if you need anything – I'm just next door."

"Right."

"Night."

"Night," she said and then she was gone.

* * *

It didn't take long for Harry to find himself ensconced in the guest room and unzipping his suitcase, he rummaged around for his pyjamas unable to help the slight thrill as he realised he was like one of those heroes from the those adventure movies he watched – living vicariously out of a suitcase. He changed quickly and sat on the end of the bed, wondering what he should do now. In spite of what he had told Nikki, he wasn't tired at all, too wired by the adrenaline which still pumped through his veins from his earlier panic and besides as he had last time he'd stayed, he felt a kind of frustration he was not unused to around her and this in itself was not conducive to sleep. He was just about to start pacing – for want of anything better to do when he heard it. At first it was just a sharp drawing in of breath, probably a wince as she laid down but after a few silent moments he heard her call his name. It was quiet as if she didn't want him to hear it but then after a minute she called again.

"Harry," she said from behind her door and as he opened his door and moved towards her room, she shouted to him.

He waited for a minute and then knocked "Nikki?" he said "are you alright?"

"Not really."

"What's the matter, can I come in?"

"Mm hm," she said and he entered noticing that she stood at the foot of her bed, fully clothed, an impatient look on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Everything hurts."

"I'm not surprised..."

"No, I mean _everything_ hurts. I can't even take my boots off; it hurts so much to bend. The nurse helped at the hospital and I hadn't realised quite how bad it was when they said my ribs were bruised. How'm I going to change?"

He swallowed, realising what it was she needed. God, when he'd said he was there to look after her he'd offered to do anything for her, but he hadn't thought that she might need him to do _this _for her. He thought maybe that was a tad on the personal side, but then they were friends. If he couldn't be mature about this then he wasn't much of one. "I could help with that," he said his voice low and quiet "if you want," he added not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

"It wouldn't be too terrible for you?" _Terrible? No, it wouldn't be that. At all_. He thought to himself as he shook his head. "Don't be silly, we're friends, aren't we?" _Yes Harry. You're friends; you'd like to still be friends after this_ he reminded himself.

"Yeah. God I'm so embarrassed."

"Hey, don't be. It's nothing," he lied closing the door behind him. He didn't know why, it just seemed appropriate somehow.

She smiled weakly at him and for a minute they both stood there awkward now the agreement had been made and suddenly both were overwhelmingly conscious of Harry's state of dress, or rather undress. "So should we start with your boots then?" he asked, moving closer to her and offering her his fore arm for support as she sat on the edge of the bed.

The lowering of the two zips was the only sound aside from their tense breathing as he removed the boots and looked up at her to ascertain whether she wanted her socks taking off, she nodded and he complied finding it hard not to stroke his hand along the smooth, pale skin of her foot and up to her slender ankle. Somehow he resisted.

She wasn't looking at him as he knelt on his haunches in front of her, his hands at a loss for what he should do next. On the bed next to her laid a pair of grey pyjamas and he knew what he would have to do. "Erm... do you want me to turn off the light?"

She shook her head "it's alright."

"So... jeans?"

"Alright," she looked at him with mild concern, apparently wondering how he was going to do this. As he ran through a plan, she unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans.

"Right..." he cleared his throat "it's more comfortable for you to be sitting isn't it?"

"Marginally," she said clearly embarrassed.

"Ok, well if you... hold onto my waist, use it as a support to pull yourself up and I'll um..."

"Ok."

She did as he suggested and with gentle hands he managed to pull the jeans from her hips, trying not to take note of the colour of her lingerie – _baby pink-_ as he did so. After some awkwardness, owing mainly to the way she held onto him, he successfully stripped her out of her jeans and helped her into the plaid pyjama bottoms which laid to her right. As he pulled back and waited for perhaps the greatest challenge – taking off her jumper without looking shamelessly at her breasts – his heart raced. In his struggle to help her, he had unavoidably felt his fingertips grazing the softness of her thigh, but exhilarating as that had been, what had his blood up was that instead of shying away from him, he was almost sure she had moved _towards _him. Of course it could have just been a part of the process... but... no; it was accidental that was all.

Without further comment or hesitation, Harry proceeded to help her out of her jumper discarding it onto the pile. He didn't mean to, but as he was kneeling in front of her it was unavoidable, his eyes naturally gravitated to her lace clad breasts and God, did she look amazing in that bra but he hardly had time to think about this before he noticed something else: the deep black and purplish bruising across her ribcage and upon closer inspection, her back.

"Jesus Nikki," he said then "no wonder it bloody hurts!"

"Is it bad?"

"Little bit!" He swallowed hard. Maybe he should get her pyjama top on her before he said or did something he'd regret more than his shameless staring. But then it came. That request, the one he'd been dreading.

"Um... Harry... would you... I mean... if you unhook it in the back..." He couldn't concentrate, was she really asking him to...? He looked at her face. She was blushing and very serious.

"Yeah... um... sure... yeah," he tried to be casual. He failed as he went around the side of the bed until he was looking at her back. His hands were shaking. He couldn't let them shake when they touched her, she'd know. He took a breath and unhooked the strap.

In a flurry of embarrassed movements she pulled the t-shirt over her head shirking the bra in a blur of black and blue stained perfection. She winced several times given the speed at which she was asking her body to move but recovered quickly and thanked him profusely.

"You're welcome," he said, watching her get into bed and pull the quilt up to her chin. "Night Nikki."

"Night," she said watching him intently as he opened the door.

He was almost clear of the room when she called him back again. "Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Stay in here with me tonight," it wasn't a question. _Was she trying to kill him?_

"In here?"

"Please. I don't want to fall asleep alone," there it was again - that fear.

He said nothing but nodded and she pulled back the covers. Could he do this? Of course he _could, _but was it right? They had always been close, but this latest request demanded a new kind of closeness that he wasn't sure they could handle. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about, lying next to her in her bed - he'd watched her sleeping after a long night often enough to know that he longed for the opportunity to watch her in an unbridled way as she slept, but lying next to her when he had just... it seemed so intimate and yet as he looked down into her worried face, he could not fail to admit the fear in her eyes and he knew that if his presence in her room would bring her comfort it would just have to be another thing he'd have to bear in the name of friendship. He couldn't help but notice the way he was holding his breath, as if he was afraid that any wrong move would throw him from the dream like state he felt like he was in, he wondered if this wasn't all too good to be true and whether he would wake up on a seven-four-seven thousands of miles from her. He had to admit however as he got into bed beside her that it all felt pretty realistic to him: he felt the depression of the mattress as he laid down, the sheets felt soft against his skin and more importantly, she was right there beside him, waiting for him to get over his silly hesitations and be there when she needed him, which was precisely what he intended to do.

* * *

They were both silent for a minute as they laid there side by side, staring up at her white ceiling and wondering whether it was appropriate or necessary to say anything. He shifted a little, uneasy given this new and decidedly bold turn in their friendship and he knew he couldn't keep up the silent pact they seemed to have made any longer.

"So," he said, breathing out after realising just how long he had actually not been breathing for. "This is what it feels like to be in Nikki Alexander's bed," he said an air of mischief in his tone.

She remained quiet for several long seconds before he heard it: it started in her throat and was low and unfailingly seductive as always. He didn't know why her laughter had such an effect over him, but it had always been that way – that single sound had always possessed the power to move him and right now was no exception. "What did you expect?"

"Who said I expected anything?"

"I can hear it in your voice."

He said nothing for a while but then plucked up the courage to reignite their witty repartee. "Well, now that you mention it, I _was_ wondering when I might be receiving the _goodies," _he said.

The way he had said it left no doubt in Nikki's mind concerning what he meant. She was also fortunate enough to have been present for _that_ particular conversation and so knew she had no reason to worry. "_You," _she said, "don't _get _any _goodies." _

"Now that hardly seems fair!"

"Dr Cunningham, I thought you were a gentleman!"

"Tried that, didn't work out for me," he said, his tone only mock-serious.

"Can't say I'd noticed."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Did it sound like one?"

"Well, I never know with you."

"That's _lovely_," she said continuing to stare at the ceiling. "It was by the way. Meant to be a compliment I mean. I always thought of you of sort of the protector."

"Protector?"

"Yeah, you know of the goodies," she said and only after she'd said it did she realise how it sounded and who she'd said it to. "Oh God," she murmured shutting her eyes against the embarrassment.

"The protector of the goodies? Hmm now what I can't decide is if that's a good thing for a friend to be or whether it isn't a little bit... sexy."

"Shut up! Please just shut up!" she said but found herself laughing in spite of herself. "Ow! Bloody Hell. It might not be a good thing for you to stay in here after all. I don't want to make you lose sleep too."

"Don't be silly. Just don't laugh and maybe don't lie like that – can't be good for the bruises. Come on, let me help you turn onto your side," he said leaning over her and scooping his hand beneath her before she could say anything to object.

He treated her like she was breakable as he supported her and she shifted onto her side and he heard her murmur a sigh of relief as she settled onto her side. As he leant over her for those brief moments he noticed that she smelt of toothpaste and faintly of iodine and glue and he was reminded to be grateful that she was here alive and relatively unscathed by her latest brush against death. "Better?"

"Much." She seemed more relaxed, her voice taking on that distant tone of someone about to fall asleep.

"Nikki?" he said as he laid back down and stared into the darkness.

"Mm?"

"I'd never let anyone hurt you, you know that don't you?"

"Mm," she muttered, half asleep.

They hadn't said anything for a while and as she laid in the darkness letting herself drift off to sleep she thought about what he had said and listened to the rise and fall of his breathing. "Except you," she whispered knowing that no one could hurt her as much as he had.

* * *

**Well there you go, that's the next one. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm on a mission with this one today to try to get as much as possible done so expect another update as soon as I can get it written.**

**Do excuse any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried to get rid of them all.**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Xx**


	4. Friday

**Hello lovely people,**

**Thank you once again for the reviews, they mean so much to me as always. My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. I hope you enjoy this one...Just in time for the show!**

* * *

When she woke, he was not beside her. As she pushed away the remnants of her deep sleep, she realised that he must have been gone some time since the sheets were cool where only short hours ago he had lain – not that this should have bothered her. Perhaps it was a little presumptuous of her to have expected him to be there, but something inside of her had secretly hoped to wake up beside him. After several more minutes in which she was fairly sure she couldn't discern his presence even outside of this room, she struggled to a sitting position. The painkillers had worn off and it was only now in the cold light of day that Nikki realised how much she would be depending upon them over the coming days and found herself grateful that Harry had put a stop to her idea of having a drink last night. Slowly, she managed to get herself out of bed and made her way to the door, the pain seeming to build with every step she took but her curiosity and a slightly unsettling feeling which niggled in the back of her mind forcing her to carry on.

As she opened the door and stepped out into the hall, she was blinded by the early morning dust motes which swirled about her head and she stumbled a few steps further into the sitting room, finding it disappointingly empty. On further investigation she found her kitchen similarly devoid of his presence. A rising feeling of both dread and panic began to make itself known – perhaps he was gone. Perhaps he had changed his mind after all. She was just about to go and check the guest room – where she would undoubtedly find proof of his decision when she heard a key slide into the lock of her front door and suddenly he was there and she couldn't have felt more stupid for her worry.

He entered the flat, his arms laden down with bags and experienced a sudden light headedness when he saw her. There was just something about the way she looked right now – her hair dishevelled, her pyjamas rumpled that arrested his attention. He was momentarily at a loss for what he was supposed to be doing since her face was set into such an interesting expression – concern and relief both in conflict with the physical pain that was written all over her beautiful features.

She was first to speak since he seemed rather dazed and if she had been worried by his absence, she was careful not to let it show. "_There _you are," she said.

He laughed a little, setting the bags down on a nearby worktop. "As opposed to where I should be you mean? Which is _where_ exactly?"

"Nowhere... I mean... somewhere... here," she stumbled over the words and turned away from him quickly. _Way to go, Nikki. _This sudden movement caused her ribs to protest most ardently "ow," she muttered, wincing.

"What are you doing out of bed? Come on, sit down," he said his tone concerned as he crossed the short distance between them and took her by the elbow, guiding her to the sofa and ensuring that she was comfortable. "You weren't worried, were you?"

"No. Of course not," she averted her eyes and then he knew exactly what she had meant before and exactly why she was worried.

"I knew I should have left a note. It's just you were sound asleep and I thought I'd be back before you even stirred. I should have known you wouldn't stay put – doctors _are_ the worst patients after all. Where did you think I was?"

"I don't know," she said, embarrassed. "Somewhere over Europe maybe?"

He sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Nikki, I made you a promise, I'm not going anywhere. Besides," he laughed "do you think I'm made of money? The airline would have charged me an alteration fee this time."

"I know it was stupid, I've got no right to make a claim on you anyway."

"I thought I was your man servant?"

"I thought you said you preferred 'concerned friend'?"

"Yeah well, man servant, protector of the 'goodies'. It's all working out quite nicely for my ego. Besides, it's rather..."

"Don't say it!" she held up her hand in mortification.

"Well you get the idea."

"So, where did you go?"

"I thought I'd better get some food in – I wouldn't be doing my job in ensuring your recovery if I didn't feed you would I?"

"Thanks Harry, you didn't have to do that."

"So what were we going to eat then? Half an apple and some dry crackers?"

"I told you I haven't been shopping yet..."

"So easy!" He laughed getting up and beginning to unpack the bags when he was forced to dodge the cushion which was soon after flying towards him. "I'll leave now then shall I?" he said playfully, going to the door.

"No!" she protested. "Don't leave!" she begged as he followed through by opening the door. "Or at least... please...bring me my medication before you go and then I can die quietly," she said knowing this would bring him back.

"You didn't take them yet?"

"I only just woke up!"

"You have a strict schedule to stick to. Here," he said, filling a glass of water and handing her the bottle of painkillers.

"It says take with food," she said her tone playful.

"Then I'd better see about some breakfast."

"_You're _going to make breakfast?" she laughed.

"What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing, nothing it's just you don't strike me as a breakfast-making kind of guy."

"Tell me Dr Alexander, how would you know that?"

"Just a feeling."

"Oh a feeling. Yeah I forgot you have no experience to draw from."

"That's because you've never made me breakfast. Your fault not mine."

"It isn't for the want of trying," he said his voice barely audible as he rummaged in the bags for what he needed.

"What was that?"

"I didn't say anything. Must have been hearing things," he said as he opened her cupboards in search of a pan.

"Bottom right," she told him. "Come on, tell me what did you say?" she asked watching him boil the kettle, crack some eggs and turn on the heat.

"It was nothing."

"I don't believe you!"

"Are you going to keep this up for long? Only, if you are I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen – you're interrupting my chi ."

"Didn't know you had one and I think you'll find this is _my _kitchen!"

"I'm going to have to start meditating soon, to block you out."

"Ok, ok," she held up her hands "If I promise to sit here and be good can I stay?"

"If you insist," he said and continued cooking.

It wasn't long before they were eating Harry's freshly made pancakes and as she dipped an accompanying strawberry into the sugar-lemon sweetness on her plate, she found that she had to eat her words. Apparently, he _was_ a breakfast man and she was slightly embarrassed for accusing him of being inept as a cook when the best she would have managed was a bowl of All Bran.

"Go on say it. I want to hear the words. '_Harry I'm really_, _really sorry." _

"Would _ditto _be sufficient?"

He shook his head, "you know that doesn't count."

"_Alright I'm really, really sorry_," she laughed just as she had done when she'd picked him up from the airport after _that_ disagreement.

"Ah, sweet victory!"

"You know, if I had a pillow I'd throw it at you."

"I know that's why I love that we're in the kitchen," he smiled victoriously.

"Child."

"Am not!"

"Oh you so are!"

* * *

They ate in companionable silence for a moment more before he spoke up again, looking up from his plate right at her. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I've been hit by a car."

"Try a tree," he smiled but then reached across and squeezed her hand. "Thank God you're alright," he told her and was rewarded with a beautiful smile.

"You know actually, I was thinking after I'm dressed I'm going to go in to the Centre, you know let Jack know about Gavin, maybe we'll close the case."

"You'll do no such thing!" he told in all seriousness.

"What are you talking about Harry? Jack needs to know who the killer is, I have that information."

"You also have bruised ribs and a probable concussion. No. No way."

"Oh and you're going to stop me are you?"

"Absolutely."

"How are you doing to that?"

"Well it's not going to be that hard is it? You're moving at a pace slower than a tortoise for one thing."

"Harry I'm serious."

"So am I," he said, piling their empty plates together and putting them in the sink. "Look, how about I make you a deal?"

"Ugh! Another deal?" she poked her tongue out at him.

"You'll like this one, it's win, win. For you I mean."

"Let's hear it then."

"Well, you stay here..." she made to interrupt but he stopped her. "You stay here, I'll go down to the Centre and let Jack know about the _developments,_ meanwhile you can relax and let your body rest."

"How is that win, win?"

"Well you haven't let me get to the best part yet. Whilst I was out, I picked something up for you, where is it?" he rummaged in the unpacked bags until he found a box of _Radox Muscle Soak. _"Supposed to work wonders. It's a good thing yours is one of those landlords who is positively prehistoric, I mean who has a bath these days?"

"You are sweet," she said with a genuine smile.

"So is that a deal then, you staying put in return for me running you a bath and going to the Centre?"

"Deal."

"Great, well give me a few minutes then," he said and went into the bathroom leaving her with only her thoughts and the sound of the taps being turned on for company.

* * *

"So," he said a few minutes later, emerging from the bathroom wiping his hands on a small blue hand towel "before I go, is there anything I should know about Jack?"

"Like what?"

"Like is he going to have me thrown out by security for taking your pass?"

"Jack won't need security. Trust me."

"So he's a big guy is he?"

"Not exactly, but he does enjoy a fight. Besides it's not necessarily him you ought to be on your guard against. Watch out for Clarissa the new technician, she's very protective of him."

"A new technician too? Well I see my boots have been filled. I suppose she has to be, protective that is, with someone like you around," he said playfully.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He ignored her question, asking another of his own. "Come on Nikki, what's he like, really?"

"Why do you need to know? You're going to meet him soon."

"Just sizing him up that's all."

"Sizing him up? You make it sound like a contest."

"Isn't it?"

"What's the prize?" she said feeling increasingly uncomfortable with this conversation.

"You like him don't you?" he asked, observing her blush.

"No, of course not. I mean yes of course I like him. He's a colleague. It is not like _that." _

"Did I say anything?" he teased. "So he fits in well?"

"Yes, they both do."

"Why do I sense a 'but'?"

"It's not really a 'but', it's just... oh for God's sake, he's not you is he?" she looked away and he knew his questioning had upset and angered her.

"Nikki I'm sorry."

"It's fine. _I'm _fine_," _she shrugged him off "so is that bath ready then?" she asked more brightly.

"Yeah. Do you need... I mean...?"

"No it's fine. Thank you though. I'll manage." She told him thinking about last night and how she had probably been able to do more than she'd said she could. She supposed in hindsight it had been some sort of test for him – to see how far he would go for their friendship, for her. When she thought about it, it had been a rather ridiculous test and she'd only been left wanting. It had been the tenderness of his touch, the brush of his fingertips on her thigh which she hadn't been able to resist moving towards, the gentility of the way he'd unhooked her bra without once trying to look.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Ok then," he said secretly a little relieved that he wouldn't have to face the moral dilemma of seeing even more of her bare flesh and wanting to do things to her, wanting to touch her, kiss her. "If you'll be alright, I'll head down to the Lyell Centre now -that way I'll be back for when you need you medication again, just in case you're not feeling well, or something."

"Thanks Harry," she said and she meant it.

"You know you don't have to keep saying it, you're welcome – of course you are. It's Ok to take your pass isn't it?" he asked picking it up from the worktop.

"Of course," she said, heading towards the bathroom, before turning back towards him. "You won't be long, will you?" she seemed frightened, again.

He shook his head. "I'll be back before you know it. Promise."

"Good," she said, clearly satisfied as she went into the bathroom.

* * *

"Nikki, I'm back." He called to her around forty five minutes later. He waited but didn't receive any response. It was hard not to, but he didn't overreact to this as he could hear her moving around in the bathroom and a short while later, the sound of the bath draining filled the flat. He sat in the sitting room reading the newspaper and waited for her. At least he knew she hadn't snuck out whilst he'd been gone. He was just perusing the sports section – somewhat pointlessly as he had no interest in which manager had been sacked from which team today- when he heard the bathroom door open and she was suddenly there.

"Oh! Harry! I didn't hear you come in," she said but he had to wonder at the sparkle in her eyes, especially given the way she was dressed.

"Don't mind me," he said, unable to avoid running a cursory eye over the way she looked.

"Sorry," she murmured looking down at herself "this was all I could cope with, I think I misjudged the power of the painkillers," she said pulling the black silk dressing gown more tightly around her waist and chancing a swift glance in his direction to see if he was at all fazed by her state of dress. He was looking everywhere but her face. At least the story had been convincing and it seemed to be working.

"Hey, don't apologise. It's fine. Your flat, your dress code."

"Ordinarily I wouldn't... it's just..."

"Nikki stop. It's fine."

"I'll get dressed in a minute."

"Not too soon," he'd been thinking it but then it came out of his mouth.

She blushed and looked away. "Fancy a coffee?" she squeaked, grateful when he busied himself with the task and she was able to retreat to the sofa where she could cover herself with the large throw cushion.

"How'd it go with Jack?" she asked when he had brought the coffees over and taken the other end of the sofa.

"Fine, it's all sorted. You don't have to worry. As it turns out when I got there he was just placing a call to a Detective Welles, apparently he and Clarissa had isolated some DNA which proved Gavin Edwards' guilt."

"Good, so they'll get him."

"Always do."

"What did you make of them?"

"Clarissa's brilliant although she seems to have gotten the idea that you're some kind of genius from somewhere and Jack, well he seems like a good guy Nikki."

"Why did you say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you were giving me your approval."

"I didn't mean to say it like anything. It's just that he cares about you that's all. It's good to know. Although, I think you can imagine his surprise when I told him what had happened."

"What do you mean?"

"He said you told him you'd left the Centre for home three hours earlier. He had no idea that that was simply 'Nikki code' for 'I'm going after a crazy murderer but don't worry'. I gave the head's up on that," he seemed angry, she was sorry to have caused it.

"You know how it is, you know I can't help myself – I have to know and I can't wait for the police to decide that they believe me."

"Nikki, you have to remember, you said it yourself Jack's not me. Of course _I _know the way you react to cases and_ I_ know about your unfailing need to help but _he _doesn't. You're just getting to know each other so give the poor guy a chance will you? He was worried about you, don't give him a reason to be."

"You told him I'm Ok though, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I also told him about the week off you were told to take and he assured me that if he sees you in the Centre, he'll drive you right back home again."

"Harry! Now you've made it sound like I can't take care of myself and to Jack too!"

"Look I'm worried enough about you as it is, come Monday there are a million other reasons that I'm going to worry about you, so don't let your health be one of them. Please, for me."

"You're worried?"

"Always, it's an unfortunate partner to our friendship."

"Well, you know what you can do then don't you?" she said, her tone harsher than she had intended it to be but her emotions suddenly taking control of her and causing her to voice the thing she'd promised herself she wouldn't say – she was asking him to stay. "I'm sorry," she said almost immediately "I shouldn't have said that it's just that..."

"I know and I meant what I said – I _am_ sorry Nikki, for all this."

"Me too," she said and they fell into awkward silence as they contemplated this. "So," she went on after a while, needing to fill the void where their old easiness had been. "Am I going to be kept on house arrest all day, or are we going to do something?"

"Nikki, you know what the doctor said, you're supposed to rest. Will you at least indulge me for today? You're still in pain – just give your body a chance, just today and tomorrow we can see how you feel."

She huffed out a sigh as she resigned herself unwillingly to her fate "'Sir! So... what are we going to do all day then?" she asked irritably.

"You really are the worst patient in the world aren't you?" he laughed. "Do we have to do anything? Can't we just talk like we used to, way back when?"

"You make us sound really old," she wrinkled her nose. "So, talking. What do you want to talk about?"

"How about the elephant in the room?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm under strict orders not to talk about a certain place beginning with 'N'."

"Seriously Nikki, you're Ok with this aren't you?"

"Ok with it? Me? I'm fine Harry I keep telling you."

"But are you really?"

"Bloody Hell Harry! What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? I tell you I'm fine and you don't believe me, but if I told you that I don't really understand how this all happened -that you've only been out of the office for three weeks and already it feels like a year, if I told you that I feel your absence every day in the big ways and the little ones, if I told that I don't think I will ever stop missing you, would it make any difference? It wouldn't and it shouldn't because I'm your friend and friends are supposed to support you and say congratulations and good luck even if they don't understand and they feel your absence every day and they'll always miss you. There is that better?" she asked, a single tear rolling down her face as she finally confronted her true feelings on the subject of Harry's departure.

"Nikki..."

"No. I'm just being selfish and I _am _happy for you. Really I am. A professorship is exactly what you deserve and why should it matter which country it's in? Nothing has to change, not really. We'll still be friends, just across the pond instead. There's the phone, email, maybe I'll even brave a video call..."

"You," he said "are such a good friend, you always have been."

"Yeah," she sighed "that's me. Always such a good _friend." _It was the way she said it which brought him up short.

"Just you wait Nikki, it won't be long until they're calling you professor. Maybe you'll even follow me to America."

She laughed ironically then. "Leave the Lyell Centre? Leave our esteemed Professor Dalton? Never. No, America's your dream not mine Harry. I have rather more Antiquarian interests remember? You'll see, I'll be _the ninety two year old pathologist _before I'm a professor and you know, maybe if you setting me up with Jack doesn't work out, I could always go in search of that _dried fruit seller." _

He laughed but took note of the seriousness of what she had said. "Who said I was setting you up with Jack?"

"You pretty much had me married off from the second you met him from the sound of it!" she laughed.

"It isn't that Nikki, it's just I want you to be happy. If Jack's the person that makes you happy then you should be with him. Don't..." he broke off before he let himself finish.

"Let him get away?" she smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. He nodded but didn't say anything so she spoke again "what if I told you I've never been happier than I am right now, here, with you?"

"Nikki..."

"Don't say anything Harry, I know." She told him, suddenly all too aware of the fact that he'd moved closer to her some time during their conversation.

* * *

They said nothing for the longest time, the tension of what she had said and the meaning of it in reality baring down on them like it never had before and yet neither of them could tear their eyes away from the other. Instead they just sat there, the silence becoming louder every moment. Eventually she found that she could no longer take it, it was just too much. What with everything that had happened last night, all the feelings that had been stirred and the way she had just put herself on the line like that, she simply could not take it. He looked like he was about to say something and knowing that it could never be the thing they both knew she wanted to hear, she did the only thing which seemed right and the only thing which would silence his tortured morality. Closing the now tiny gap between them, she leaned in to him, careful not to twist her bruised body too much as she felt her lips find his.

If there was one thing she had promised herself when she'd agreed that Harry could stay to look after her, it was that this wouldn't happen – that she wouldn't put her feelings out there and that she definitely wouldn't kiss him, no matter how the emotion of it all guided her and yet here she was, her eyes closed, her body aching and her mouth being slowed pried open by his probing tongue. For several dazzling seconds she was too shocked at her own initiation to even move or breathe and she'd been especially nervous when he'd remained non-responsive, but now it was a different story all together. She could feel in his enthusiastic exploration of the walls of her mouth how much he wanted this kiss and she hoped that he could feel the same from her. She squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut, hoping that the pressure of that would stop her from crying out in what could only ever be unbridled joy that this was happening again. They'd kissed before, but it had only been momentary and in the end, had come to nothing, but this one felt different. She could feel his need as it merged with hers, their tongue dancing with and caressing each other in a seemingly endless passionate embrace which she loved. They could have only been kissing for seconds and yet time seemed to be suspended as she slid her hands up his back and onto his shoulders and his fingers combed their way into her hair. This was the kiss they should have shared years ago and she never wanted it to end, but after several more long moments, she felt him beginning to pull away and reluctantly relinquished her ownership – however temporary- of his mouth.

He pulled away gently, careful not to hurt her or give her the wrong impression of his feelings – which were currently in turmoil – and they sat regarding each other with heavy, lust-hooded eyes. He couldn't quite believe the turn of events and yet, somehow, it had seemed inevitable. Given the situation and the shortness of his residence in the country let alone London itself, he knew the emotions were bound to boil over and now he felt hungry, dissatisfied and in pain and all because of her. He'd been reluctant enough to say goodbye to her as his friend and now after that – after this weekend as it currently stood, he wasn't sure he could ever handle the pain of letting her go. Why had he kissed her back and why was he even thinking about it as a bad thing? These were questions which tumbled around in his mind simultaneously until he didn't know what to do. She looked equally confused and her eyes had become hard, like she was steeling herself for a known or expected disappointment.

"Nikki..."

"Don't say anything. Please Harry," she almost begged and his heart broke even more. How could they move forward if they couldn't even talk about it? But then surprisingly, she leaned forward with a wince and dropped a kiss to cheek – a non committal kiss which was quite different to that which they'd just shared. "It's Ok."

They said nothing then and he noticed that she'd automatically put distance back between them and he just couldn't get his head around why. What had he done that was so wrong? _Taken a professorship in America, you idiot. She knows as well as you do it can never happen between you now. _He thought to himself before deciding to speak up as she turned on the television and flipped to a movie channel showing some mindless thing or another.

"So, do you still want to go out tomorrow?"

She paused, turning just slightly towards him as if trying to gauge his meaning but he remained resolutely fixed on the movie. "Mm hmm," she said then.

"Good," he said getting up and disappearing into his room.

* * *

She waited for several long minutes before she struggled to her feet and made her way to the guest room where she knocked on the door. "Harry?" she called listening and not hearing any activity. "Please come out. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. Please don't let this be a weird unspoken thing between us." He didn't answer her immediately and she was giving up hope that she hadn't ruined everything when his door opened.

"I wasn't being weird Nikki. I was just on the phone, making us a dinner reservation. This time, we're going to finish this the right way and don't ever apologise for doing," he paused stepping closer to her and kissing her gently again "that." He said, revelling in the return of her beautiful smile. "So what's the movie?" he asked as they headed back to the sofa and sat down, holding hands.

* * *

**There it is, I hope you enjoyed this. Please do forgive any minor editorial mistakes they are my own and I have tried to get rid of them all.**

**Thank you as always for reading, I'll try to write more either tomorrow or Saturday, which would be fitting since the next chapter is titled 'Saturday'.**

**Xx**


	5. Saturday

**Hello lovely people,**

**Thank you once again for the reviews and interest in this one, they mean so much to me and especially in light of recent events I can tell you.**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

**Oh and remember that 'M' rating... that's all I'm saying.**

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

"So," he said as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom "you _are_ actually planning on getting ready then? For a minute there I was worried I was going to have a bed head for company!" The tube of lipstick she threw at him narrowly missed his earlobe; he supposed that was answer enough.

Instead of choosing to bite to his comment she replied "_you _should learn how to knock."

"What would be the point of that? You've nothing I haven't seen before!"

"I thought we established that you don't get the '_goodies' _I think trying to get a look at them disqualifies you as a gentleman."

"So what?" he said "you'd rather us just be 'friends who kiss?"

Her cheeks coloured at the memory of the kiss they had shared. "Is that so bad?"

He shook his head – anything was better than the thought of letting her go and it had to mean something at least that she hadn't tried to deny the kiss, didn't it? "Besides, who said I was looking at anything, apart from the time I mean? The reservation is at _eight _you know. Tick-tock," he said.

"Don't rush me Harry, didn't anyone ever tell you not to rush a lady?"

"Oh alright then, when I see one I'll be sure to remember that!"

"You," she said trying to come up with a witty reply but failing as she noticed the way he was looking at her, watching her – it was more than friendship, it was desire...

She was a little self-conscious as she continued putting on her make-up in spite of her audience, finding the whole experience of watching him watch her in the mirror strangely sexy. "You know, you really should leave. I have to change."

He looked a little reluctant, but pushed himself away from the door jamb. "Sure you don't need a hand with that?" he asked eyeing the black button down shirt-dress hanging on her wardrobe door.

"I'm fine, now _go_," she said insistently, waiting for the door to close firmly behind him before she allowed herself to fan her face. Things had gotten a little _heated_ there for a second and now they had another label to contend with. 'Friends who kiss'. _She could live with that, _she thought to herself as she got up and began to change.

"There you are," he said looking down at his watch again "I was about to send out a search party!"

"Alright, alright I know I should have started getting ready earlier. It's all your fault by the way, if you hadn't chosen that DVD you wouldn't have had to spend all afternoon explaining it to me."

"If you went to the pictures more than I don't know, once a year, maybe you would have understood it."

"Maybe I'd go if someone would take me," they stopped short, reaching that awkward stale-mate which seemed to be frequently occurring since neither of them wanted to raise the subject of Harry's departure in two days and all these little quips were hinting at a future they couldn't have.

"You know, it's charming really. I go to all this effort for you and not one compliment," he said, indicating towards the open necked white shirt he wore over his signature denim. "This shirt is new and everything."

Nikki felt her heart-rate increase as she ran a casual eye over his appearance. She'd forgotten how much she liked Harry in a shirt, she couldn't even recall the last time she'd seen him in one. "Are you going to ask me if it _suits you?" _

"Might do."

"Well it does," she said "very much."

"Now you've made me blush!" he joked, tucking his wallet into his pocket.

"My pleasure," she said. "So I don't get a return compliment?"

"You shouldn't give to receive Nikki."

"I know, but still..."

"You look great," he told her noting the soft tumbling curls about her shoulders and the mid-height heels which seemed to make her legs go on forever. All teamed with the simple dress she wore, this combination definitely worked on her, she made everything seem so effortless, as was her way. "As always," he added because it was true.

She really did blush, tucking a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear. "So, are we going?" she asked, taking his proffered arm.

* * *

"White wine please," she said to the waiter for maybe the sixth time.

"Orange juice," Harry argued, again. The waiter looked confused, Harry didn't blame him.

"I think I know what I'd like to drink, Harry," she said.

"Yes and so do I. You'll have an orange juice and you'll smile about it," he told her keeping his tone low and playful, not wanting his comment to be misconstrued as threatening.

"Oh!" the Italian waiter suddenly exclaimed, writing down the order at last. "Your wife is pregnant!" he smiled as if it were the simplest explanation in the world. Harry conceded that it probably was. As Nikki began to correct him as was her wont, he quickly confirmed that this was the case. The waiter ignored Nikki's last feeble plea for wine and went off to place the order with a wide grin.

"Harry!" she said, kicking him in the shin. "Now you've gone and made him think we're..." she seemed to lose the ability to articulate the thought.

"What? Not just 'friends who kiss'?"

"Well... well, yes," she said for want of anything better to say.

"Oh dear, I _am_ sorry," he smiled watching as the waiter placed their drinks down in front of them.

"Yeah, looks like it!" she hissed as he busied himself at another table. She raised her glass, just about to take a sip when he held up a hand to stop her. "What? What now, you're going to stop me having a drink – a _non_ _alcoholic drink – _too?"

"Not at all, I just thought maybe we should toast."

"To what exactly? Our fake marriage or maybe our fake baby?" she quipped although her tone was playful.

"Come on, would it really so bad, being fake married to me I mean?"

She considered this in private for a moment, knowing that on the loneliest of nights, she'd let herself imagine exactly that – except without the 'fake' part. "I suppose not. You are quite _nice," _she grumbled, taking a quick sip of her juice before he noticed how flushed she'd become.

"_Nice_?" he tested the word on his lips "that's it. I'm filing for divorce!"

"Oh goodie! Just what I wanted," she pouted.

"Hey Nikki, you're not going to sulk all the way through the spaghetti course are you?" he joked, taking note of the sparkle in her eyes and knowing this was all in fun.

"Don't know. What are you going to do to change my mind?" she asked, genuinely intrigued.

"I can think of one thing," he said his tone serious as he got up off of his chair and leant across the table, catching her lips in the briefest of kisses.

"Suddenly," she murmured after her eyes had reopened "I'm feeling so much happier," she said, feeling no small thrill as when he had returned to his seat, he proceeded to hold her hand across the table.

* * *

"That," she sighed later, as they waited in the bar for the taxi to come "was lovely. But I ate too much."

"Wait, wait... It's like déjà vu or something."

"Why?"

"Well didn't you say that last time we came here?"

She stayed silent for a minute knowing that it was true – although she had had an excuse, it had been Leo's birthday. "It's not my fault!" she argued, pouting again "I was coerced into having that tiramisu."

"Coerced? Forgive me, but I don't remember standing over you and saying 'Nikki Alexander you must eat that tiramisu or else," he laughed.

"Well the way I see it, if you hadn't had that cheesecake I wouldn't have felt compelled to eat a dessert too. You know..."

"Cab's here!" he said, breaking her train of thought and guiding her towards the taxi.

They'd given the cabbie her address and were about ten minutes from the flat when he suddenly spoke up. "Actually, Nikki, do you mind if we make a stop at my place first?"

She looked a little shocked for a minute but then recovered her composure. "Oh, you don't want to stay tonight?"

"Would you stop worrying? I told I'm not going anywhere this weekend – I'm all yours. It's just I had something I wanted to give you, seeing as you're here I might as well give it to you now. I was going to have it delivered, you know, after..."

"What's in it for me?" she asked to save the awkwardness.

"Besides the generous present I'm going to give you, you mean? I suppose I might be able to stretch to a _small _glass of wine, only if you're feeling up to it of course."

"You had me at 'present'," she smiled.

"Thought I might. Excuse me," he said to the cabbie, "sorry we've had a change of plan," he continued, giving the driver his address.

* * *

Nikki was surprised by how big Harry's flat looked now that it was not inhabited, she supposed as she made her way, after Harry's lead, into what used to be the living room that she'd never really taken much notice of the flat itself. It had certainly been a rarer occasion that she had come here, he tended to come by her place after work or at weekends or following a fight and just as Harry seemed to realise that all his furniture was in storage, she was trying to remember the last time she'd actually been here.

"I'm just starting to think, maybe this was a bad idea after all," he said, apologetic for his lack of ability to offer her a chair.

"Don't worry about it, I feel much better."

"Hmm, don't think I don't know what you're up to."

"What would that be?"

"You're just using me for the wine, aren't you?"

"Might be," she grinned, her fingers skimming the pile of boxes in the centre of the room.

"Thought as much," he laughed as he began rummaging around in a large box in search of what he wanted.

She watched him in silence as he went through the box, thinking about how sad it was that his life here could be packed in as few as the twenty boxes which littered the living room. She guessed she'd never really thought about it, but the same could probably be said of her life and she wondered what it said about them that they could live in a place and yet leave it so easily without fearing that some fragile memory would be lost.

"Now," he said, holding something behind his back as he turned towards her, "before you get any big ideas, it's nothing spectacular. Just something that I wanted you to have."

She waited for a minute wondering if he was actually going to give it to her before she realised that something was causing him to hesitate. "What's the matter Harry?"

"Nothing. Well, it's just... I was thinking this all seems so horribly... final doesn't it?"

"Then don't let it be, think of it as being left in my safe keeping."

"Like passing the torch," he told her, producing it from behind his back.

"Or the hockey stick as the case might be!" she laughed, taking the case from him with a reminiscent smile.

"I just thought... I dunno it's one of the first times we ever worked together on something. I thought maybe you'd like to have it."

"Harry I love it!" she told him and she meant it – she couldn't think of a better present, apart from his staying of course. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid a re-enactment is off the cards, but I_ will_ treasure it."

"Shame! I was just thinking about how bouncy you were that day," he seemed genuinely bereft but she was mildly affronted.

"Harry!"

"What? I meant enthusiastic!" he laughed, realising the insinuation he had unwittingly made.

"You didn't _say _enthusiastic!" she laughed too and he felt better.

"I meant...willing... no, no that's even worse... keen?"

"You," she said extended her arms to indicate a large space "hole... deeper. There's three words for you," she smiled.

"I'll just... um... I'll just get the wine shall I?"

"I think that'd be best," she laughed watching him go.

* * *

"So," he called from the kitchen "you want to know how this gets even better for me?" he asked.

"What've you done now?" she asked playfully.

"Oh y'know, run out of wine," he said trying to keep it casual but knowing that added to the whole 'bouncy' debacle, he'd just given her a deal-breaker.

"So hold on a second Dr Cunningham," she said, her voice sounding further away than he had remembered it being a few seconds ago "are you saying you've lured me here on false pretences?"

"Not exactly," he replied, exiting the kitchen and finding the living room empty. "You got a present that's half a deal," he made his way from the living room towards the back of the flat and the only place he could think she'd be.

"Suppose," she muttered.

* * *

He made to reply with some witty retort but when he found her in his bedroom all notions of what they had been talking about slipped out of his mind. She stood with her back to him her arms loosely draped across her body as if in defense, gazing out of the multiple windows to the cityscape beyond. She seemed as mesmerised by it as he was by her but then she averted her gaze from the thousands of twinkling lights and looked right at him, her stare penetrating and moving him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"It is," he replied automatically. They both knew he wasn't talking about London by night.

She swallowed, hoping that would dissipate some of the rising tension which had crept from her stomach up to her throat. It didn't. "You know," she said, struggling by now for words. "I've lived here for almost the entirety of my adult life and I've never just stopped. To take a minute, to notice this," her eyes had flicked back towards the view but she could feel his on her unfalteringly.

"I know," he growled and in a series of swift movements which neither of them would later remember, he was on her.

* * *

She could feel him all around her, his toned body pressing against her back, his tight hardness pushing urgently against the cleft made in the fabric of her dress as it stretched over her bottom. She didn't remember when, she could barely even think straight, but at some point soon after he had joined her by the window, her arms had voluntarily uncrossed and she felt her hands running down his back, her fingers grasping for the back of his belt as an anchor as she realised that his hands were sliding down the front of her dress. He was being cautious she could tell and instead of grabbing her around her bruised ribcage, his hands ventured lower until they were settled over her dress, just at the apex of her thighs. Her head lolled back against his shoulder, the extension of her neck creating the perfect tense arch between his body and hers as he turned his head a quarter inch towards her and she could feel his breath moving her hair and warming her face.

She swallowed again and suppressed a sigh of contentment as she felt the reaction of his body to even this minute movement of hers. She was happier in those blissful moments than she had ever been with a man and she knew that the contentment she felt was only because of him but she also knew that she had promised herself she wouldn't allow herself to feel this way for him, especially given the imminence of his looming departure. But he felt so good...

"God," she murmured breathily, feeling his left hand scrunching her dress a little as his gentle fingers tried to sculpt a path to her secret self. "What are we doing Harry?" she asked, frustrated.

He didn't answer for a moment, choosing instead to hold her while he could. "I don't know," he said honestly, after a minute.

"You're leaving... in two days... we shouldn't." She mumbled her thoughts already becoming broken at the very touch of him.

"I know."

"I _want _to," she said defiantly.

"Me too," he agreed, nudging the hair from the side of her face with the edge of his nose and ghosting his closed mouth against her jaw.

"You have to let go," she told him in spite of what she had just said.

"I can't," he said, his heart rate racing as he realised she was going to break the moment. He held her steadfastly, refusing to relinquish her until he had to.

He waited, she was still and silent. He began to resign himself to the fact that his stupidity had lost him this woman forever. She turned her head a fraction of an inch towards him, her closed eyes suddenly flicking open. "Neither can I," she said, her lips seeking his.

They kissed awkwardly for several minutes until the angle of their stance caused her lips to protest most ardently and they were forced to adjust. She panicked for a moment that if they let go now, they would lose the tenuous thread between them, but he would not allow it. The second she had turned to face him, his hand was at her hip, anchoring her to him. His lips possessed hers relentlessly, their kiss this time exceeding every previous one. There was more need, more desire, a greater wilderness and a raw passion they'd not had before and despite the way their tongues tangled together, she did not feel like she could ever be close enough to him. In spite of the urgency they both felt, nothing was rushed. He ran a hand up along the curves of her body, caressing the elegant extension of her neck as she continued to press heated, open mouthed kisses to his lips.

"Nikki..." he muttered as she squeezed a hand into the limited space between their bodies and let her fingers brush the buckle of his belt and move slowly lower. He stopped kissing her and looked over her shoulder towards the unmade bed. He knew he shouldn't make assumptions but it felt so good and so right and he wanted her so much.

She winced again as she moved a little too quickly for her body in her reckless of pursuit of his lips. "Willing," she mumbled the word "keen," she hummed.

He had anticipated that it would be more difficult given the current fragility of her body, but somehow they made to the bed, where he helped her to a sitting position at the foot of the bed. Somewhere between the window and the bed, they had managed to lose their shoes and he was bent on his haunches in front of her, staring into the eyes which had never left his.

"Nikki... do you think we should...?" he asked tentatively.

"Ssh," she whispered, trailing her finger over his lips before she shifted a little and moved her hands to the first button on her dress.

He could only watch in stunned silence as she popped button after seemingly endless button on the dress, gradually exposing her collarbone, her perfectly set shoulders and the beautifully unblemished skin which lead his eyes lower to the sumptuously lace clad valley between the cresting bounty of her ample cleavage. When she reached the button just over his navel, he was overcome by such a rush of unbridled desire that he couldn't help but reach out and stop her, pulling her fingers away from her body savagely. "Leave it," he growled, leaning forwards and tracing his lips upwards from the deep gaping 'V' of her dress, caressing her stomach and finding his way to the breasts he had long fantasised about.

"Harry," she shuddered, her body arching towards his lips as she said his name and he couldn't help but smile against her skin, something he hoped she could feel. "Please," she begged - the first of many pleas that night.

He continued his torturously slow caress of her body, even at this odd angle, knowing exactly what she wanted from him but finding himself suddenly doubting that it was right for them to be here like this at all. Just as he was about to voice his concerns to her, she surprised him by thrusting her hands inside of his shirt and beginning to sculpt her own path across his body. He groaned as he felt the perfect curves of her manicured fingernails prodding against his skin and she grinned mischievously into the kiss they were sharing.

Soon they were fighting each other to get to the buttons of his shirt and after some tense negotiations they seemed to succeed in their goal of stripping him of it. In a movement which suggested far more skill than he could actually claim, the shirt fluttered almost gracefully to the floor. She moaned, a delicious sound, as he loomed over her, stripped to the waist and almost mortifyingly at the mercy of her gaze. Seconds later she began to lower herself against the soft welcome of his mattress, groaning anew and in pain as her body adjusted unwillingly to this new position. He stared at her from his vantage point at the foot of the bed whilst she used her heel to scoot herself up the bed towards the pillow. She was beautiful. This was torture. He would never be able to let her go now, he had never wanted to. He knew what she wanted and he knew he could never be the one to give it to her.

She lifted her head from the pillow, her face was the picture of agonised pleasure, he wondered how quickly that would change to just agony now. She was waiting for him; he would not come to her. He could not. It did not take her long to realise what was happening. "Harry, what's the matter?" her voice was strained with all the emotions he was currently feeling but could not show her.

* * *

"I can't do it Nikki," he said getting up and walking around to the empty side of the bed where he lay down on his side, looking across the perfection of her.

"Can't do what?" she asked although he could tell she knew.

"I can't make love to you Nikki," he said.

"What?" she was close to tears.

"I can't."

"I thought you wanted me," she said turning away. "I thought we wanted each other."

"Look at me," he told her sliding a hand beneath her neck and trying to make her face him. "Nikki look at me. I do. Believe me, I do. _We_ do." He kissed the side of her jaw.

"Just not enough."

"That's not it. At all."

"Then what?" she asked turning back towards him "what is it?"

"I just don't want to hurt you. You're not well..."

"I told you," she insisted "I feel much better."

"Nikki come on," he said with a smile "your body needs to rest."

"My _body," _she said, rolling onto her side with a sharp intake of breath "needs _you." _

"Nikki..."

"Please Harry."

"I won't hurt you."

"Then don't."

"Thank you," he smiled triumphantly.

"I mean don't hurt me. Please Harry. Please just... touch me," she begged.

"Nikki..."

"Just kiss me then," she told him.

* * *

He sighed as if this request was a great burden, but his worried expression had quickly been replaced with a smile again as he began to kiss her. It did not take long for their kisses to become passionate again and slowly he rolled her onto her back. He treated her as gently as he could, as if she was breakable – something which had been proven two days ago. Although he heard the mild protests of her battered body, her breathy moans of pleasure as he kissed her far outweighed the physical pain she was in.

He did not speak again after, feeling as if he was balanced on a precipice, hanging between the end of something and the beginnings of something wonderful and choosing just for tonight to suspend all reality and lose himself in her. It was not hard to do. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her he wanted her, he'd wanted nothing more for so long and to lose this opportunity was to lose the most perfect memory that he could take with him and he couldn't imagine that.

Her fingers were clawing at him, raking their way across the bare expanse of his back, encouraging him closer than he knew it was safe for him to be. After several more tense minutes kissing her, touching her like this, he rolled off of her, coaxing her onto her side and hitching her thigh over his hip, in a desperate bid to feel as much of her as he could. She was to him like a strange, intoxicating opiate and he knew he could never get enough of her. He snaked his hand into the open front of her dress, letting his fingers close around the strap which sat on her left shoulder and dragging it down. It wasn't practical or desirable for her to remain in her dress – it made gaining access to her beautiful breasts difficult- but he knew if he stripped her, he'd go back on his promise and they'd both end up regretting it tomorrow when the imminence of his departure was at its most threatening. She gasped as he pulled at her bra until her left breast tumbled free of its confine and the softness of the lace was replaced by the roughness of the slight stubble at his chin and the warmth of his wet mouth as he took her in. Her head fell back causing her body to arch against him and her leg to tighten its grip on his hip. In alarm, he surged forward, his teeth clenching the sensitive flesh and she cried out in something of a strangulated scream.

He recoiled instantly knowing that he'd ardently assured her he would not hurt her and that he had gone too far. He was ashamed with himself; he should never have started this. He chanced a look into her eyes and he was surprised to find that he saw not repulsion but the blackness of desire. "Don't stop," she said, her tone clearly one of instruction. She shifted against him restlessly, her dress hiking up and the lace of her knickers brushing against the hard front of his trousers.

He could not back down now, they had come too far, this meant too much. He wanted her so much he felt that his mind was unravelling. He longed to plunge deep into her, to be accepted and welcomed by the warmth of her but he did not want to regret a single thing about this night: he would not allow himself to make love to her and then leave her.

"Harry, please," she begged, her voice strangely animalistic as she reached between them, popping the button on his trousers and thrusting her hand into his boxers. "You want me, don't tell yourself otherwise."

"I won't," he replied and it was unclear what he meant, but suddenly his body seemed to be on autopilot. He pulled back from her to create enough space between them before he roughly hitched her dress around her hips and almost tore her knickers down her legs. There was an awkward moment as he legs became tangled- from the way they were strewn about his body and as result of the lace which tried to bind them tightly- before they somehow managed to shed her of them. He grabbed at her face almost cruelly, dragging her lips onto his and feeling every bit of hatred of himself for doing so but needing to satiate his desires, first and foremost. She kissed him back eagerly, her breathing quickening with his as the shock and thrill of it increased the pleasure she felt and he felt a low guttural moan of his own bubbling in his throat.

* * *

At the moment when the teasing caress of his fingers over her soft curls became inadequate, he surprised them both and pushed two fingers inside of her invasively. They froze, staring at each other. For him it was not nearly so satisfying as he had hoped and yet he hadn't been able to imagine any possible alternative. When he looked into her eyes, he could not tell what she was thinking. Her face was twisted in a multitude of expressions, one of which he hoped was relief, sweet relief. She was so tense, he hardly knew how to proceed, should he finish this for her, was that what she needed or should he release himself from her cavern and apologise for his rough, savage treatment of her? Her groan of unadulterated pleasure answered for him and he felt her relax.

It took mere minutes to work her up and only seconds of that for him to realise that he would get no relief tonight as his thumb found that heavenly nerve and its depression set her free. She became rigid, her eyes clenching shut as she made a plethora of noises he could not decode and would never forget. Several minutes later, her shoulders relaxed and with some effort she rolled onto her back.

"Nikki," he ventured when she did not attempt to speak. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

She made no answer for the longest time but then turned her head towards him, trying to catch his eye. "That was like... an explosion," she said her voice raspy. Lying on his back beside her, fighting the urge to take her properly, he was unsure of how to answer that accolade and so simply smiled.

"Harry, just for tonight, promise me," she started, pulling herself up and straddling his lower legs as she folded her protesting body towards him so that her lips skimmed his waistband, "don't let me go," she said, her hand pulling at his trousers and underwear until her lips connected with his straining desire for her...

* * *

In the darkness of the early hours, her held her as she lay sleeping. At intervals, he kissed her shoulder, savouring the salty taste of sweat on her body. His arms encircled her protectively and he clung to her as he knew he would have had they made love. He thought back over what had happened between them and he couldn't help but feel guilty. It was almost as if he had cheated her. He got to leave this place with a beautiful memory of her and she must stay here, endlessly unsatisfied - her poor, broken body left wanting.

"You know Nikki, I _never_ want to let you go," he whispered, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

* * *

When she woke a while later, she could hear the words he had spoken as if they were a lingering dream and she answered him in the only way she could. "Neither do I."

* * *

**Well there it is. I wanted a little bit of M with a difference and I hope you enjoyed it. I can only apologise for the length of time it has taken me to post but third year of uni seems to be running my life, so I will try to get the rest out a.s.a.p. I'm going to work on 'Sunday' with the intention that it'll be ready a bit later, but it maybe that it takes me longer.**

**Please forgive all minor editorial things, I've tried my best.**

**Thanks, as always, for reading.**

**Xx**


	6. Sunday

**Hey lovely people, **

**Thank you for the reviews and continued interest in this one, it means so much to me that people are still reading this, even though it was published two months ago. Anyway, we're nearly there, chapter six out of the promised seven and 'Monday' looms ever closer. Just a sneaky little preview for you, but I do have an eighth chapter possibility if anyone would be interested... **

**So enough rambling, here's the usual... My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She woke with a start which had nothing to do with the rain currently lashing the windows and everything to do with the movement she had felt beside her. On several occasions during the night she had woken, just to see if he was still there and thankfully he had been. At intervals, he'd even wrapped his arms around her and she'd never felt safer than lying in his embrace, feeling the warmth of his breath on her neck and the slight scratch of his stubble on her jaw as, in his sleep, his lips absent-mindedly brushed against hers. It had felt strange and yet comfortable, wrong and yet unbelievably sexy and ultimately she knew that it was right for them to be together, if only it weren't for the impending deadline on their time together, which was why the second she felt even the slightest movement, she was awake and reaching for him.

She didn't even take a minute to check her appearance, her instinct – to keep him there with her- taking over and pushing all other things out of her mind. Her hand closed around his arm like a claw and it was only when she felt him give up his attempts to resist that she allowed it to relax a little. They were silent for a moment and in that short time, she became overwhelmingly aware of her sleep mussed hair and the feel of smudged lipstick on her chin, as she rolled towards him, watching him with nervous eyes, she felt the friction of her open dress against her skin and was reminded of the frenzy of last night's encounter. They hadn't bothered to undress. _They hadn't made love. _That hurt her, still.

Seconds ticked by and she knew that one of them had to speak. His face was twisted into such an unfathomable expression that she knew it would not be him. She cleared her throat, realising that her nerves had dried her mouth a little, before she spoke. "Don't make this something it isn't Harry, please," she said, her body turned towards him so that she could see his eyes.

"Nikki, we shouldn't have..."

"As I recall, we didn't," she said, her voice cold.

"I wasn't going anywhere, you know. I just thought you'd want some coffee," he said, ignoring her comment for as long as it was possible to.

"That's an excuse I've not heard in a while. Seriously Harry, you don't have to protect me. I'm completely fine with what we did last night. It looks like you're the one who isn't."

"Nikki I'm leaving tomorrow! I know I'm the one who said we shouldn't talk about that but it's happening and I should not have assumed that it was Ok for me to..."

"Please don't make it seem like I'm a victim Harry! I was here too- remember? I wanted you too. I wanted to go all the way. I still did, until about thirty seconds ago. God you make it seem so... _dirty. _Maybe it was a good thing nothing real did happen between us – I wouldn't want you to _leave tomorrow_ with any regrets," she said throwing back the sheets and flicking her legs over the edge of the bed, completely forgetting about the current limitations on her body until it was too late. "Shit," she muttered as she got up, trampling over his shirt and her underwear which had somehow managed to land on her side of the bed.

_Her side of the bed. _ Her heart, hell, her mind was already betraying her, making the connection she had longed to make for so many years. _This man is perfect and you have woken up on your side of his bed. _But he was not perfect. He was complicated and frustrating and most importantly of all, he was leaving. Tomorrow.

She turned away from him for a minute, aware of the sob which was rising up in her throat and finding herself wholly unwilling to cry in front of him about this. He could not know in any greater detail than he currently did how much this was hurting her. Completely oblivious to her state of undress, she began to make her way to the bathroom – anywhere that was away from him – but the sound of his voice stopped her before she'd even taken her fifth step.

"Nikki, stop," he said and for a moment she hesitated before continuing towards the door. She was no performing monkey. "Don't go, please," he said his voice more desperate now. She swallowed hard, hearing the sound in her ears and finding that she was grateful for the distraction from the buzzing, tense silence of the bedroom on this rainy Sunday morning.

"Why does it always take..." she stared as she turned towards him but the words died on her lips as she caught him staring at her, his pupils dilated and black as he roamed the dishevelled, half open dress, the haphazardly strewn, destroyed lace cup of her bra which did not cover her left breast at all and she felt overwhelmingly self-conscious in a way she hadn't thought she would.

"If I tell you I'm an idiot, will you stay?" he asked. She shook her head, tears threatened again.

"Please, Nikki come here," he patted the 'C' shaped area of the bed bedside him, an inviting and safe shape created by his body which she absolutely wanted to curl up into. But she would not give him the satisfaction.

"Come here," he repeated, his voice more authoritative now.

She tried to stare him down, tried to make her body move – away from him – but it was no good. As always when they fought, something in his 'please forgive me' expression rendered her powerless and she could only acquiesce. She moved to the bed and sat facing him, placing enough distance between them that she could still think clearly – just- but showing herself to be willing to accept his apology. He reached up to her, his fingers twining in her hair as he attempted to brush out her now unruly waves. There was silence between them again as he looked at her, thinking of her as some incredible piece of living art somehow brought to life and he experienced the uncomfortable sensation of dawning truth. He had missed his opportunity with her, they were too far distanced from each other although they were only inches apart and he could not impinge upon her life like this.

"You," he leaned in closer to her and was grateful when she didn't move back "are so important to me," he said, "so special and I have messed everything up," he told her and she could not disagree, although she hardly thought herself blameless. He guided her into him, encouraging her to lay in the cocoon of his body and wrapped his arms around her.

"What do we do Harry?" she whispered minutes later.

"I don't know," he said and it was the truth. He didn't know what they should do.

"Maybe," she said a long time afterwards when the rain was finally subsiding and the couple still hadn't moved "we should just pretend."

He sighed heavily, not expecting this response from her. "You're worth more than that," he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

* * *

She sat at her dressing table hours later, her hair wet and dripping from where it sat on her shoulders down the sharp lines of her collarbone towards and over the champagne coloured camisole she wore. She didn't even care that the water would stain the fabric; it was the furthest thing from her mind. The only thing she could think about as she sat there, toying with the idea of moisturising her face after her shower was him. Harry. Since the middle of the afternoon yesterday she hadn't been able to think of him without her heart skipping a beat, but now all she could think of him with was sadness. She could hear him in the flat, a sound she'd never get used to, he was just moving around, probably getting her next dose of medication ready and thinking about how he could bribe her to take them this time. It had turned out that he was an exceptionally good man-servant. He'd been taking care of her for three days straight, seeing to her every need and yet sitting here in the luxurious silk of the underwear shed bought on that occasion when for some crazy reason she'd been lingerie shopping for _him, _she felt so dissatisfied.

There was something strangely erotic which seemed to put paleness to her sadness about the fact that he was just the other side of the door and she was here, wanting him. Abandoning the moisturiser, she picked up her perfume taking off the lid and spritzing it on to her wrists. She watched the wet trails sliding quickly back towards her elbows and she tried to imagine the heat of his tongue following that path, making her skin come alive. God, what was she doing? They'd made a pact only this morning that from now on, they'd make things simple: no more being in each other's personal space, no more kissing and certainly no repeats of last night and yet, it was all she could think of.

She knew at some point or other she was going to have to face him, to make small talk until they would go to their own beds for his last night in England, but for now it seemed right to hide in here, it seemed to be the only way she could do justice to the goodbye they must say. She sighed as she thought about it, that one word which meant so much. Goodbye. She'd been trying to avoid it over the past three days but now that she was sure that he too had realised the imminence of his departure to New York there was no escaping it. The thought of having only hours left to tell him all the things she needed to say was just too awful and out of nowhere she was crying, again.

Her sobs shook her and she couldn't seem to stop them, each time she caught her breath a new wave hit her and her sadness grew. Last night, with him, everything had been so perfect. They'd joked about marriage, they'd skated over the nostalgic beginnings of their attraction and finally, they'd ended up entwined on his bed, kissing, touching, craving and now today they had to go back to the awkwardness of wanting and she didn't know if she could. The more she tried to rationalise what had happened last night, to explain it away as just a reaction to him leaving, she became more distressed until she was sure he was going to hear her sitting in here, crying uncontrollably and for reasons which she was sure only she understood.

Right on cue, she heard the tell-tale knock at her door, before it was opened and he popped his head around it. Completely oblivious to her wailing, he started talking about her medication, until her breath caught unattractively in her throat and he was silenced, being brought swiftly to his senses.

"Nikki, what's the matter?" he said, rushing into the room without hesitation. "Where does it hurt?" he asked thinking as had been his wont that everything had to do with the accident.

She rubbed at her reddened eyes, trying to stop herself from further sobbing before she attempted to answer and she only met his concerned, tortured eyes when she was sure she wasn't going to break down again. Holding his gaze in her vanity mirror, she instinctively moved her hand to heart, resting her fingers over the thudding beat of it. "Here," she said flatly, getting up from her chair, not seeming to recall the way in which she was dressed, or rather undressed.

"Nikki I..." he started to say but nothing seemed to be enough and besides, the way she looked in the lingerie she was wearing was more than a little distracting.

"I can't do this Harry," she said moving closer to him and placing her hand on his chest. She smiled a small, triumphant smile to herself when she felt the equally rapid beat of his heart. She leant up and allowed herself to kiss him, a chaste testing kiss, before she felt him probe her mouth – almost instinctively.

"God, Nikki, you're so..." he faltered, raking his hands through her wet hair and groaning maddeningly "beautiful. Look at you. I'd be mad to..."

"Ssh," she mumbled silencing him with another kiss and guiding him back towards the bed.

He didn't protest, didn't say anything and just let himself be lead. She was mesmerising and was quickly proving to him that last night had had far more significance for them both than they had perhaps each secretly hoped for. "You know, I bought this for you," she said, delighting in his confused expression. "It was when you were seeing that woman, you know, Rebecca. I was jealous and crazily thought if I bought a sexy outfit you might want me instead of her. You're the reason I got thrown out of that department store" she smiled, kissing him as she slid her hands beneath the hem of his jumper and sculpted his torso with her soft hands.

"I," he started, barely able to process what was happening "am such an idiot."

She nodded, her hair tickling his face as she moved her hands lower and set about unfastening his jeans. "A prize idiot," she agreed laughing heartily at his wounded pride.

She winced a little as she forced her body into a curled position it did not appreciate, running open mouthed kisses down his clothed body as her hands shucked his jeans and boxers and her lips yearned for the hardness she knew he had longed to press inside of her last night. She felt him shift restlessly beneath her and smiled against the coarse hair which surrounded him.

"Nikki what're you...?"

"We shouldn't pretend Harry; we can't and why should we?" she kissed him intimately and he shuddered.

"You don't have to..." he groaned in pleasured pain as she began to take him into her mouth.

"After what you did for me last night?" she muttered.

She continued her attentions to him for a few minutes more, lapping up the deliciousness of his reaction to her and finding that all she could think about was how much she wanted him, how much she longed for him... A short time later, his breathing became strained and his body bucked towards her mouth, surprising her as he let go.

"Jesus Christ Nikki," he muttered when he had recovered enough "I am going to miss you, so much," he told her, it was an instant reaction and it sounded a little like he was only thinking about what she had just done for him, but she knew it was more than that and she felt it too.

"I know," she said "I'll miss you too," she managed to say before he had deftly flipped her beneath him and was already stripping her of her camisole.

She muttered his name as he began lavishing kisses to her breasts, his tongue flicking across the crease beneath them and tasting the sweet-salty mix of her moisturiser. She let out a moan as his lips burned their way down her body, trailing her stomach and moving lower towards the little French shorts she wore. Her head lolled to one side as his slightly rough fingertips brushed the sensitive skin at her hip. It was only at the last moment that she came to her senses.

"Wait, Harry, wait," she said, grabbing his hands as he began to ease her underwear down.

"What? What is it?" he asked impatiently between the kisses he pressed to her shoulders and chest.

"Nothing... it's just... you were right."

"What?" he sounded like he was in pain.

"We shouldn't go any further than this. It'll make it too hard."

"Nikki..."

"No," she said, pushing against his shoulder in a motion to stop him. "No."

"Don't you want this?"

"More than anything."

"So...?"

"That doesn't mean we should do this. You were right last night. I want us to still be talking when you leave the country. At least that way there's a chance our friendship will survive."

"I can't imagine anything that would bring us closer."

"It'll become a 'thing' between us, we won't speak about it and it'll be something we always regret."

* * *

He sighed but rolled off her, hurriedly pulling his boxers on and lying by her side.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "God, I hate this."

"Don't," she said curling up against his back and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Don't hate it. It's the right thing. You'll do well and I want to know that when it came to it, I supported you."

He said nothing for a while, but then grabbed her wrist and kissed her pulse point. "You are my best friend Nikki Alexander," he told her and fortunately he was turned away from her, so couldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"Harry," she said after a while, when darkness was creeping up on them.

"Mm?"

"We're still friends who kiss, aren't we?

"Of course we are," he said, turning to face her and pushing his lips to hers.

They kissed and held each other for the long hours of the night, not wanting to think about the early morning flight Harry must catch. Over the course of that night they almost fooled themselves into believing that there was no threat to their time together, until of course, the shrill ring of the alarm pulled them from their comfortable slumber...

* * *

**There it is, hope you enjoyed it. More soon. **

**Xx **


	7. Monday

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, your comments always give me courage to continue to try new things and to keep going with stories which for reasons largely beyond my control have not been updated for a while. So it's Monday and in a move which is either remarkably ironic or just coincidental I thought I'd write 'Monday' for you. I've said this will be the last chapter and when you read it, you'll see why, but I do have another chapter planned if you fancy reading it (let me know). **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Silent Witness, its characters or plot and all recognisable dialogue will be cleared marked in italics. **

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

They dressed in the dark, everything slow and considered as if delaying the inevitable just a second, a minute more would stave it off indefinitely. They pulled the duvet back into place, her at her corner and he at his. She fluffed the pillows and turned down the edge of the quilt in a motion which was almost inviting. As he tied his laces, she swept her natural waves into a high ponytail. S he moved quietly towards the kitchen, setting about making a pot of coffee. It seemed like a considerate gesture, but really her motivation was selfish – being in the kitchen meant she did not have to see him go from her bedroom into the guest room where he would pack the sparse contents of the single suitcase he had brought in from the car. It seemed so final, so naturally she avoided it.

She concentrated on the bubbling of the percolator rather than the rattling of drawers or the sound of the stripping of the sheets in his room – not that he'd spent much time in there – she hated the formality, the process of his leaving. She loaded the toaster even though she wasn't hungry. It was just another way she could play her role. As she poured two cups of coffee, adding sugar and no milk to his for possibly the last time ever, she tried to practise her 'I'm happy for you' face. She was glad she didn't have a mirror; she had no desire to see a grimace staring back at her. She paced the room, knowing that she could not make this about her. When he'd come to the hospital, she'd been grateful and she'd told herself over the past few days that grateful was all she would be - that and happy for him – at least to his face. She'd send him off in the manner he deserved and she'd suffer for her efforts on her own time. As she set about laying out the breakfast things, she noticed something she hadn't before: his passport and boarding pass on the breakfast island, next to his wallet. Logical, as ever. She wondered how long it had been there as she turned it over in her hands. Voyeuristically, she flicked through the pages, fresh tears catching in her throat as she noted that most of the recent stamps were ones that she shared. Africa – North and South, Budapest and in a few hours she thought to herself, New York would join its fellows and there their shared travel experiences would end.

She didn't hear him enter, he had a habit of sneaking up on her when she was least expecting him and, without words, she handed him the offending documents. His thumb brushed her hand as it closed around the burgundy leather and the British Airways travel wallet. She withdrew it as though his touch burned. It was too hard. Unexpectedly, he moved closer to her and placed an arm around her neck, drawing her into him and brushing a light kiss to the spot where her forehead met her hairline. She shuddered, recoiled and picked up a slice of toast she did not even want. _Please just follow my lead. _They ate. He washed up. She fastened her coat. He picked up his suitcase. They moved towards the door. She flicked off the over head lights. He went out first. She concentrated on the metallic clank of the key in the lock rather than the sound of his footfalls in the hallway, making their way to the lift.

* * *

The car was silent. There was nothing to say. She stared straight ahead, her arms braced on the seat, the rain distorting her vision. _It was ending as it had begun. _In the strange twilight hours of early Monday morning, the roads were almost empty and their journey was mercifully short. He pulled into one of the short stay bays, getting out of the car to pay the fee. Nikki had told him on numerous occasions this was wholly unnecessary, after agreeing that owing to the write off she had to her name she would take ownership of his car, he had told her that he'd put it in the short stay car park until, as the doctor had dictated, she could officially drive next week. No amount of persuasion had swayed him and she got out of the car bearing keys she could not put in the ignition until Monday of next week, they had a deal.

She was a silent witness as he checked in his suitcases, she said nothing as he upgraded to first class for the long haul trip. She followed numbly as he suggested that they sit in the coffee shop. They had a couple of hours to kill. Unless of course she wanted to leave now? She'd said nothing to this, her scathing expression taking the place of words quite eloquently.

Maybe they talked a bit, but if they did, she could not remember their subjects. She was too busy looking around at other people soon to be passengers of the miscellany of flights departing today: families, a mother, father and two excitable children already wearing 'Goofy' hats ate overpriced muffins, an old couple – who really had her choked- held hands and made comments about their coffees being 'all froth and no substance' whilst excitedly poring over their 'Guide to Venice'. Two tables over, a youngish man in a business suit tapped away at his laptop whilst speaking hurried mandarin into the headset he wore and at her table, sitting opposite her, was a man she was not sure how to place. If he had to be one of them at all, she supposed he'd be 'man about to start a new life' _without me_, she added silently. Gradually the customers of the cafe dwindled, responding to calls for various flights until it was just them for a while. That made it harder and the silences louder somehow. He reached for her hand at one point and she withdrew it. To touch him now would only ruin the balance she was currently precariously in. After a while, she began to regret not leaving when he'd given her that out an hour and three quarters ago. Then it happened and she was sorry she'd even thought it.

"All passengers for flight **JFK 54 **please make your way to boarding gate five."

She swallowed hard, closing her eyes briefly to avoid his as she heard the scrape of his chair on the linoleum floor. "You're up Dr Cunningham," she managed but her attempt at a jovial tone sounded flat. She wished she was dead.

She walked a little bit behind him as he followed the signs for boarding gate five. This degree of separation was nothing compared with what she soon must face but it was a start - that was what was important, or so she kept telling herself. She couldn't go much further than to the entrance to the gate anyway without a boarding pass, which she most certainly did not have. He'd have to do the departure lounge duty free excitement bit on his own. She smiled tightly, knowing she must look the picture of repulsion as she tried to mask her emotions and they reached the glowing yellow sign demarcating gate five. They stood awkwardly opposite each other for a moment, the time for goodbyes shockingly upon them.

* * *

"Well," she said after several tense minutes, raising her arms in a 'that's it' sort of nonchalant motion which she did not achieve.

He shifted awkwardly, staring at his shoes as he shifted his bag on his shoulder and tried to figure out her coldness. He laughed then, it was all he could do. "I'll tell you something, it's not how I imagined it."

She said nothing, waiting instead for him to continue. "This, you know, saying goodbye," he was trying to encourage her to say something.

"It's certainly not like a movie, if that's what you mean."

"No, it isn't," he ran an awkward hand through his hair.

"Well," she said, allowing herself to pull him into a somewhat uncomfortable embrace. "Good luck," she said, trying to be ever the supportive friend.

He cleared his throat against her shoulder and she was sure she heard the signs of tears. "God, I'm going to miss you so much."

She put an affectionate hand to his cheek "I'll miss you too. Of course I will." It was the first time she'd let herself become emotional so far.

"Visit me, in New York?" He tried to grab her hand; she took an instinctive step back, shaking her head.

"I told you Harry, I belong here," she said, shaking her head again.

"But you can visit."

"I won't."

"Then I'll visit you here."

"You won't do that either. You have a new life to live and I..." she paused clearing her throat and blinking away her tears, "I will _always _be your friend."

"Friend? Nikki..."

"Thank you Harry," she spoke over him "for everything you did this weekend. I'll never forget it."

"Neither will I."

"Calling all final passengers for flight **JFK 54**."

"You have to go," she said.

"God, why does this have to be so hard?"

She leant in closer to him, her hair touching his cheek, "because it's us," she murmured breathily, pulling back just enough so that their eyes met before she let herself press a quick kiss to his closed mouth. "Goodbye Harry," she said, emotions welling.

"Goodbye Nikki," he said, his heart aching.

"There, wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked, walking backwards, away from him, trying to smile.

"Nikki..."

"Final call for flight **JFK 54**."

"Go on," she murmured and there was something almost erotic in her voice which transported him momentarily back to her bed.

He turned from her and began walking up the corridor towards airport security, he knew he was cutting it fine, but this seemed more important. She watched him go, getting further and further away from him and she almost believed that she could feel the knife which forced their separation. Just as he was moving beyond her eye line, she was overcome with a desire to say something more significant than she previously had, he'd been right; their goodbye hadn't exactly gone to plan. She fought with herself for a few seconds before she decided that what she had to say had to be said now.

"Harry? Harry!" she called desperate to get his attention, a crowd had begun to form around him, the boarders of another flight in the next gate but she hoped her voice would carry. "Harry, I love you!" she shouted, for a moment it seemed that he had heard, he stopped just for a split second but then he continued and she surmised that perhaps he hadn't heard at all. She waited just a minute longer then decided it was time to leave, once and for all.

* * *

Outside, she tried to control her breathing and focused on hailing a cab rather than fixating on the pain in her heart. Even at this early hour, getting herself into a cab at the airport was proving nigh on impossible and in less than a second, she'd made the decision. She pulled Harry's keys out of her jacket pocket and caught the shuttle to the car park. She had a tense conversation with the parking attendant before she found herself pulling into the one way system and heading away from the airport. She pondered going by Harry's apartment like she'd told him she would to try to organise his stuff for the storage people, but decided it was too soon for that – that would require facing up to the fact that he was gone, which she absolutely could not do. She looked at the clock on the dashboard, registered that it was 8.30 a.m and made yet another snap decision. She was technically signed off work until Monday but she really needed to feel productive and she reasoned that work was the best place for her. If she drove to speed limit she'd be there in a little over thirty minutes and no one – apart from Jack of course – need be any the wiser. As she was driving, she briefly thought about the various deals she'd made with Harry but immediately dismissed them. He'd made a deal with her too that he wouldn't ever hurt her and he had, by leaving. Screw him.

* * *

She made her way across the car park of the University towards the Lyell Centre, a quick glance at the reserved spaces told her that Jack- and by consequence – Clarissa were already in but not Leo. Good. She could avoid awkward questions from the two newest members of the team but not from Leo who would know just in one look that there was something wrong. Entering the building, she rooted around in her bag to find her pass, but found it was missing. _Shit. She'd bet anything it was still in his wallet. Great, just another thing to sort out –because of him._ She pressed the buzzer over and over and banged on the glass partition. Eventually she saw Jack emerging from the offices with a perturbed look on his face. She motioned to him angrily and he sped up releasing the door.

"Nikki? What're you doing here?"

"I work here, remember?"

"Yeah but..."

"Oh I forgot my personal lackey brain washed you."

"He was just looking out for you. He's gone now right?"

"I don't want to talk about it Ok Jack."

"Sure," he nodded soberly and held the door open for her. She entered. "You look like Hell by the way," he added, taking in her appearance.

"Thanks Jack, with me flattery gets you everywhere," she said, sarcasm strong as she mumbled a hello to a shocked looking Clarissa and logged on to her computer.

There was silence in the Lyell Centre; Jack had informed her that there had been a call in to say that a pathologist was needed at a scene. That explained Leo's absence.

"So what're you doing?" Nikki asked after a while, when she had reviewed her cases and finished up her report on the case they had just closed.

"I'm working on a case for that research lab, you know, in the medical park, they need some samples checking – Clarissa's helping me out."

"Great, so when Leo gets back, I'll just help him with the case then."

"Yup, sounds like a plan."

She was done with niceties, he was looking at her like she was crazy. "What?" she said.

"Nothing, it's just... Aren't you supposed to be on medication or something?"

"I can handle myself Jack," she said.

"That's not the way that Dr Cunningham..."

"Well he's not here is he?"

"Nikki don't be..."

"Honest?" she said, walking away from him.

"Nikki..."

"No, get off my back, Jack – you have no idea," she said turning away from him and walking straight into Leo.

"Nikki?" the older man said, steadying her as she recovered. "What're you doing here? Look at your head." Both Leo and Jack's reactions confirmed to her that Harry really had seen past the surface wounds she had sustained, he'd told her she was beautiful and she believed him. It made her feel even worse that he was gone.

"Oh God, you too?"

"Me too what? Jack mentioned you'd had an accident -."

"Oh he did? Did he tell you that I've been looked after too?" she said accusingly.

"No," Leo moved her to one side "has Jack been staying with you?" he said, his voice low.

"What? No! Of course not. God, do I just give off this impression that I'm easy or something? You really think I'd just... after everything you know about..."

"It was Harry wasn't it?"

She avoided his eyes, but he nodded anyway, knowing that this was the real reason she was so upset. "Nikki, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it Leo," she said, a little of her pain escaping her.

"Did you tell him how you feel?"

She glared at him but then nodded "and he left anyway?"

"It wasn't like I didn't know he was going to leave, it was always going to happen and I smiled and I said all the right things and..." Leo put a comforting hand on her shoulder and murmured something consoling.

"Where did you say he was?" Jack piped up from somewhere behind her.

"On plane to America Jack," she bit out, still looking at Leo.

"You sure about that?"

"I was with him at the airport, so yeah Jack pretty sure, why do you keep asking these ridiculous questions?"

"Really?"

"Jesus, yes Jack, I am," she said, spinning around to face her provoker just in time to hear the door release and find herself face to face with Harry.

* * *

He stood by the door, a little out of breath and with his hands raised in mock surrender. Between his fingers she could see her pass. She couldn't think of anything to say. His departure was still fresh in her mind, the wound it had opened still raw.

"Harry?" Leo was the first to speak. "I didn't think we'd be seeing you again so soon."

"Neither did I," he replied, his eyes never leaving Nikki's. "But I realised there was something I'd forgotten."

"What are you doing here?" It was a question she had been asked one too many times in the last few minutes but it was all she could say.

"Nikki..." he stepped around Leo who fell into place beside Jack and Clarissa. "You know, I had this whole bit planned, with the pass and..."

"A bit? You had a 'bit' planned?" she interrupted.

"Can I just... get this out ,please?" She nodded.

"This weekend," he said moving closer to her and placing a hand on her waist. "I've realised what I have been missing out on for eight years and I was a fool to think that I could be that close to you and then just let you go today. I was thinking of ways all morning to tell you that I wanted us to be more than friends... But you told me that you were happy for me and I started to believe you and to think that this job opportunity was what I wanted, but I realised when I was on my own in the airport, getting ready to board that it meant nothing if I didn't have you. I just want you – that's all I've been able to think about all weekend – how much we fit, how I feel about you."

"Harry, what are you doing? This is your whole future we're talking about. Being in New York is what you've wanted, this professorship, you deserve it... I don't want to stand in the way of that."

"Nikki listen to me, I can't be happy, New York wouldn't mean anything if I can't have you."

"Harry, we talked about this – this was the reason that nothing happened between us," she blushed suddenly aware of their audience.

"Something did happen between us Nikki, lots happened this weekend – I realised how I feel about you."

She turned away from him, unable to process what he was saying to her. He'd just gotten off a plane for her – again, that had to mean he was serious, didn't it? But the very fact that he'd left this morning, that he hadn't said any of this earlier, made her hesitant. She couldn't be hurt by him anymore than she already had been.

"Nikki," he breathed leaning into her and kissing her in spite of his audience "I love you too," he said and she withdrew quickly.

"What?"

"I told you yesterday, I'm an idiot – a prize idiot if I recall correctly – I heard you Nikki, I _heard_ you and I was idiot enough not to tell you then and there that I love you too. So much."

"Do you mean it?"

"Of course, Nikki I just want to be with you. I don't care about anything else."

"You're sure about this?"

"Completely, Nikki tell me you want to be with me too."

"I told you I love you this morning, I want to be with you – that's _all_ I want."

"God Nikki, I feel like I've waited all my life for you to say that to me."

"Me too," she smiled, letting him kiss her again.

"Nikki, I promise I'm never going to let you go."

"I hope not," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you Harry," she said again, because it felt so right to say the words aloud...

* * *

**To be (continued) or not to be? That is the question, as I said this is technically the end but if you want the 'final chapter' which FYI is shameless M rated content, do let me know!**

**All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading Xx **


End file.
